


$BB8$M 
ESSE 

k88G 989 
H 




aassJBMASDO 






ESSAYS 



AND 



MEDITATIONS. 



C. Hansard, Primer, Fetcrborough-court, Fleet-street, London. 



ESSAYS: 

ON 

RETIREMENT FROM BUSINESS; 
ON OLD AGE; 

AND ON 

THE EMPLOYMENT OF THE SOUL AFTER 
DEATH; 

TO WHICH ARE ADDED 

MEDITATIONS 

ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS, 

RELIGIOUS AND MORAL. 

by y 

A PHYSICIAN. 



THE FOURTH EDITION, 



Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright : For the end 
of that man is peace. 



LONDON: 

PRINTED FOR F., C, AND J. RIVTNGTOK, 
62, ST. PAUL'S CHURCH-YARD. 



1812. 



ADVERTISEMENT 

TO THE 

PRESENT EDITION. 



The little Volume, now again offered 
to the notice of the public, has been for 
some years scarce, and it should seem 
almost for gotten. The Publishers trust 
they shall receive the thanks of the 
serious part of the Community, for res- 
cuing from oblivion a Work in which 
so much truly Christian Piety is to be 
found. 

November, 1812. 



ADVERTISEMENT, 

PREFIXED TO THE THIRD EDI- 
TION, PUBLISHED AT EDIN- 
BURCxH, IN 1780. 



XHE author of these Essays and 
Meditations was a Layman, eminent 
in his profession, and exemplary in 
his life. After the most diligent 
and successful practice of physic, 
for more than twenty-six years, 
(but long before the advance of 
age, with its usual appendages, 
had disabled him to continue that 
practice) he resolved upon giving 
up the hurry of business, that he 



Vlll 

might find more leisure to mind 
the important concerns of another 
world, (or, as he was wont to ex- 
press it) " to think of where he 
was going." 

That this resolution was delibe- 
rately formed, upon serious con- 
sideration of the duty, the diffi- 
culties, and consequences of such 
recess, appears, not only from the 
first of those Essays, but from his 
conduct afterwards ; for, in the 
last ten years of his life, he de- 
clined being employed as a phy- 
sician, save only to them, whose 
narrow circumstances forbid their 
access to the best advice, and 
proper medicines, both which they 
were sure to find with him, at no 



expence.— How he spent this re- 
tirement, may be concluded from 
the following papers, now printed 
from his own manuscript. — He left 
no direct order for making them 
public, only desired they might be 
put into my hands in the event of 
his death : But, as it has been 
observed, that the works of some 
laymen, (Paschal, Boyle, Nelson, 
Addison, Forbes, &c.) on the side 
of religion, have been more at- 
tended to, and read with less pre- 
judice, than those of many among 
the clergy, to the same good pur- 
pose ; I thought the publication of 
them was a duty incumbent on me, 
in an age when such assistances 
are wanted. 



Had the self-denial of this ex- 
cellent person allowed his name to 
be prefixed to these papers, it 
would have quickened the demand 
for them, and rendered the pre- 
fixing of this advertisement unne- 
cessary by the 



EDITOR. 



CONTENTS. 

Essay Page 

I. On Retirement from Business, 1 

II. On Old Age - - - 23 
III. A Dream, or, On the Em- 
ployment of the Soul 
after Death - - 57 

Meditation I. On the Day far 

spent - - - 85 

II. On the Examination of the 

Heart - - - 89 

III. Of Man's Interest in the 

Perfections of the Deity 92 

IV. Of the Vanity of Riches, 

Honour, and Sensual 

Pleasures, compared 

with Piety and Virtue - 98 

V. Of Time - - -105 

VI. Of Friendship - - 110 

VII. Of a Future State - - 114 

VIII. Of conquering Ourselves 122 



IX. Of Repentance - -131 

X. Of Heaven - - -141 

XI. Of Prayer - - -145 

XII. Of the Works of Creation 

and Providence - - 155 

XIII. Of several Vices which 

Men are daily guilty of 161 

XIV. Of Christianity - - 176 



ESSAYS, &c. 



ESSAY I. 



OF RETIREMENT FROM BUSINESS. 

oOME authors have beautifully de- 
scribed the charms of retirement, and 
the happiness of those who are masters 
of their own time, and can employ it in 
works and contemplations, suitable to 
the duty and dignity of a rational being', 
who must give an account of his actions. 
Others again, better acquainted with 
the human heart, have declaimed warm- 
ly against retirement, appealing to daily 
experience, which shews, that all who 
quitted business, soon had reason to re- 
pent of their rashness, as having, in 
effect, condemned themselves to perpe- 
tual gloominess and melancholy. 



2 ESSAY I. 

As those authors have viewed retire- 
ment in different lights,, we need not 
wonder that their sentiments about it 
are so different. There is no doubt, 
that most of those who did retire from 
business,, seem to have been discontent- 
ed in retirement, and would gladly re- 
turn to their former employments, could 
they return with decency ; but it is 
equally certain, that such unsteady minds 
had not previously considered how their 
time was to be filled up, and their 
thoughts employed in retirement, before 
they determined to relinquish their re- 
spective professions or occupations. 

You please yourself, my dear friend, 
(as perhaps all men in business do), 
with the hopes of ease and recess in 
some period of your life ; give me leave, 
therefore, to offer my opinion of what 
may be previously necessary to make 
you happy in that situation. 



OF RETIREMENT. 6 

No man ought to retire from business 
while he has youth and vigour to pursue 
it. If he retires through indolence, or 
voluptuousness, besides hurting himself, 
he is unjust to the community, which 
cannot subsist comfortably without the 
mutual labour and aid one of another : 
and if he retires from a motive of reli- 
gion toward God, he leaves half the task 
unperformed for which he was sent into 
the world, by being useless to his neigh- 
bours. 

On the other hand, an old man should 
not, through covetousness, chuse to 
sink * under the burden of his profes- 
sion, rather than throw it aside ; but, 
if his circumstances will give him leave, 
should decently make his retreat from 
the busy world, before his faculties are 
impaired, and he becomes the subject 

* Quintilian tells, with regret, concerning Do- 
mitius Afer, malle eum deficere quam desinere. 

B 2 



'* ESSAY I. 

of censure or ridicule ; and especially, 
before it be too late, to search and know 
his own heart ; which is a lesson harder 
to learn,, and more important, than per- 
haps he may imagine. 

A man's circumstances ought to be 
independent before he pretends to quit 
business, either by being master of a 
large estate, which will enable him to 
live in affluence ; or, by levelling his 
mind to a moderate fortune, and by 
having such an absolute command over 
his appetites, that they shall not desire 
any gratification but what he can in- 
nocently and conveniently afford. 

The masters of overgrown estates, 
got in business, rarely know when they 
have enough ; or, if ever they think of 
a retreat, it is too commonly from a vain 
affectation of spending in empty show, 
and inhospitable grandeur, a small part 
of what was amassed, perhaps, by ra- 



OF RETIREMENT. 5 

pine or parsimony. Such undisciplined 
minds can form no notion of a wise or 
virtuous retirement. 

A man of a moderate fortune (for it 
is to such I write) has several things to 
consider with respect to himself, and to 
his connexions in life, before he ven- 
tures on retirement. He ought, in the 
first place,, to be so far acquainted with 
his own heart, as to be fully satisfied 
that no seeds of covetousness lurk there., 
which may spring up to his disquiet ; 
lest^ hy throwing himself out of an em- 
ployment which added daily to his in- 
come., his equanimity should stagger, 
and he should become afraid of poverty, 
after his gain has run into other chan- 
nels, and his repentance will avail him 
nothing. Let him never quit business 
whose heart is tainted with avarice^ 
otherwise he will become his family's 
tormentor, and his own ; and his frantic 



6 ESSAY I. 

terrors of imaginary wants will be sure 
to poison every blessing that he pos- 
sesses. 

He must,, in the next place, take espe- 
cial care not to retire on account of any 
disgust or peevish humour, into which 
he has been thrown by disappointments 
or bad usage. If fretfulness should be 
his inducement to quit business, he 
must always continue on the fret, other- 
wise he will lose his relish for retire- 
ment. No wise man, surely, would 
build any important resolution upon a 
transient humour, which may soon 
change, and leave him to reflect with 
regret on his rash conduct, when per- 
haps it is too late to rectify his error. 

He must in the third place consider, 
that it is not an easy matter to subdue 
old and stubborn habits. A round of 
business, in which an industrious man 
has moved, from morning to night, for 



OF RETIREMENT. 7 

many years, in which he knew how to 
employ every hour of his time, and 
often thought these hours too short ; 
such an habitual round, I say, must at 
last become natural to him. To be, 
therefore, abruptly thrown out of it by 
retirement, where every spring* of ac- 
tion is altered or lost, must disconcert 
him, and prove irksome. If a man has 
not previously considered what he was 
about to do ; if he has not gradually 
weaned himself from his usual attach- 
ments; and, above all, if he has not 
steadily resolved to fill up, with some 
new employment, every vacuity which 
the loss of his former business must 
make in his time, he will, like a fish 
out of water, pant after his natural ele- 
ment. Retirement will become like a 
prison to him ; he 1 knows not how to 
employ his thoughts; and his mind will 
grow torpid through inaction. There 



8 ESSAY I. 

is now no passion to rouse him,, no pre- 
sent gain to allure him,, no variety to 
engage his attention as formerly, and 
no pleasing intercourse with persons 
conversant in the same studies, or assi- 
duous in the same pursuits, to soothe or 
relieve him. Every moment therefore 
feels tedious to him, and he falls insen- 
sibly into a dejection of spirits, which, 
by precluding the hopes of good, and 
magnifying the apprehensions of evil, 
renders him completely wretched. This 
is a rock that some wise and good men 
have struck on, though, by a little pre- 
vious reflection, it might have been 
easily avoided ; for I was well acquaint- 
ed with an old man retired from busi- 
ness, whose time was so regularly em- 
ployed, that, when any unusual occur- 
rence broke in upon his little scheme 
(as he called it), he thought himself ob- 
liged to quicken his diligence next day, 



OF RETIREMENT. 9 

in order to recover the hours he had lost 
by that interruption. 

But besides judging deliberately of 
his power over his own appetites, pas- 
sions, and habits, a man must likewise 
attend to his connexions in life. If he 
has children, it is dangerous to quit bu- 
siness, because, in case of unforeseen 
misfortunes, they must be involved in 
his difficulties, though they have not 
his firmness to support them. If he has 
a wife, he should never retire without 
her deliberate approbation of his de- 
sign, and without an equal disposition 
in her to contentment and resignation 
in all events : For suppose him to have 
any humanity, her sufferings (should 
any happen) must afflict him more than 
his own, especially if he has prevailed 
with her, against her inclination, to put 
her patience to so severe a trial. Nay, 
if a man has relations of merit who de- 



10 ESSAY r. 

pend upon him, humanity requires (in 
case his estate be not sufficient to main- 
tain them and himself) that he should 
defer his retirement, until he can settle 
them in a rational way of maintaining 
themselves by their own industry. 

Lastly, with regard to one's old com- 
panions and neighbours, it must be con- 
sidered, that as interest is the strongest 
band of union and good will among 
men, so he, whose profession is any way 
beneficial to his neighbours, will be sure 
to possess their esteem ; but when once 
he has relinquished that employment, 
which was the source of the respect 
paid him, he must expect to be slighted 
by those whose interest alone induced 
them to caress him. Such neglect may 
at first, indeed, give some uneasiness to 
a generous and disinterested mind ; but 
that uneasiness will soon be removed, 
when one reflects that it is no small 



OF RETIREMENT. H 

pleasure to have an opportunity of dis- 
tinguishing real from pretended friend- 
ships ; and that the coldness of narrow 
hearty which mind only their own par- 
ticular interest, deserves rather to be 
pitied than resented. 

Let us now take a view of the other 
side, and suppose that a man has been 
guilty of no previous imprudence with 
regard to his intended retreat, and that 
he has laid down a proper plan for the 
employment of his time. In such a 
case, retirement should be a delightful 
situation, at least to old age. A recess 
from the fatigue, anxiety, dissipation, 
and disappointments which attend busi- 
ness, and which had so long prevented 
his attention to things of still greater 
moment ; an exemption from tempta- 
tions to envy, fraud, flattery, dissimula- 
tion, intemperance, and revenge ; and 
in their stead, to enjoy a serenity of 



\2 ESSAY I. 

mind, undisturbed by the false pursuits,, 
impertinencies, insincerity, and snares 
of a busy life ; and to have leisure for 
recollection and amendment : if a man 
has a just regard to the longest part of 
his duration, such a change should make 
him happy. 

But though several vices may be 
avoided by retirement, there still re- 
main many to be conquered, which are 
ready to intrude upon that state ; and 
many virtues to be cultivated, sufficient 
to give us full employment for every 
day of our lives, if we carefully attend 
* to them. 1 shall, for a specimen, name 
only two of each sort: of the vices, 
peevishness and sloth ; and of the vir- 
. tues, resignation and beneficence. 

Among the vices apt to haunt retire- 
ment, is peevishness. When a man 
stands no longer in need of his friends 
towards carrying on his affairs with sue- 



OP RETIREMENT. 13 

cess, he often loses that complaisance 
which made him formerly agreeable, and 
sometimes contracts a fretfulness and 
moroseness of temper, which grow upon 
him by indulgence. Instead of comply- 
ing with others in their innocent humours 
or amusements, he studies only to please 
himself. He discovers a dogmatical 
sufficiency, and a bluntness in his con- 
versation and behaviour, which, increas- 
ing by degrees, render him at last odious 
to his former companions, and insup- 
portable to his own family, where the 
storm falls heaviest. But how ungene- 
rous and indecent is it to indulge such a 
habit ! Is it not both mean and impru- 
dent to exasperate those who study to 
please us ? Is there no gratitude due for 
benefits we have received ? Do we cease 
to be social creatures, because we have 
quitted business? What true satisfac- 
tion can remain to him whose rusticity 



14 ESSAY I. 

has driven all his disinterested friends 
away ? That soul must be savage indeed, 
which feels no joy in pleasing others. 
And though we should suppose a peevish 
or morose man to be in other respects vir- 
tuous ; yet still such a cynical virtue has 
much fewer charms than that which is 
attended with a mutual intercourse of 
humanity and good humour, and gives a 
relish to all our other blessings. 

Another error ready to creep into our 
retreat, is sloth. When a man thinks 
that he has made a comfortable provision 
for old age, and finds himself no longer 
obliged to toil for his daily subsistence,, 
he is apt to fall from his former hurry, 
into the contrary extreme of sloth and 
indolence, to rise late, and to lay exercise 
aside. But to this conduct, without 
calling in any moral consideration, we 
need only oppose health ; for he who, 
from much exercise in the course of his 



OF RETIREMENT. 15 

business, sinks into laziness and indo- 
lence, will most certainly impair his 
health, and shorten his days. The 
humours which were kept in circulation 
by exercise, will stagnate and grow 
acrimonious by sloth, and bring on such 
complaints as must make his life miser- 
able. Reason and experience verify this 
observation, and he who thinks other- 
wise, will soon be brought to conviction 
by his distempers. 

Of the virtues to be practised in re- 
tirement, I have also named two, resig- 
nation and beneficence ; each * of which 

* Though resignation is amiable and useful in 
every condition of life, it is more particularly so 
in retirement ; because in case of unexpected 
losses, you have no resource but in this virtue ; 
whereas, while you continue in business, you may 
repair your fortune by increasing your diligence. 

Beneficence also should be more deeply rooted 
in the heart, after a man has retreated, than it was 
before, lest he should think the diminution of his 
income, from laying down his employment, a good 



16 ESSAY I. 

is difficult to be attained, and yet ex- 
tremely conducive to happiness. It is 
not easy to acquire a habit of resignation 
to the divine will ; for when we have 
formed our own schemes, as we imagine, 
with prudence and caution, we conclude, 
that they ought to succeed according to 
our wishes; and, if they miscarry, we 
are apt to murmur at the dispensations 
of Providence, and think our fate hard ; 
though it frequently happens that, had 
they taken effect, we must inevitably 
have been ruined. But can any thing 
be more agreeable to right reason, more 
becoming weak and ignorant creatures, 
such as we are, or more conducive to 

apology for diminishing his charity, which is no 
apology at all ; for a man is obliged to do full as 
much good in a voluntary retirement as he did in 
business, and has no right to let his retreat injure 
those who depend upon his assistance, how neces- 
sary soever he may find it to deny himself some 
gratifications. 



OF RETIREMENT. 17 

our peace of mind, than an entire 
resignation to the disposal of that Being, 
who has infinite wisdom to contrive, 
infinite power to execute, and infinite 
goodness to direct whatever can relate 
to our happiness. Most certain it is, 
that he loses the highest felicity which 
can be enjoyed on earth, who does 
not, with a cheerful acquiescence, rely 
on the supreme Being, and, with a 
thankful heart, acknowledge his per- 
petual mercies. 

Beneficence likewise is a virtue diffi- 
cult to be attained, because our sympathy 
with people in distress is painful to us, 
and the assistance we propose to give 
them may cost us labour, time, or 
money ; and the more extensive one's 
charity is, the greater still is the trouble 
and expence attending it. But the ex- 
pediency of this virtue is manifest ; for 
since we must have some intercourse with 
c 



18 ESSAY I. 

mankind as long as we live, and since 
no man knows whether he may not him- 
self stand in need of help before he 
leaves the world, we cannot in justice 
or decency expect kindness from others, 
unless we are ready to shew kindness 
in our turn. Love and be beloved, 
is a maxim established by every man's 
experience. And the great Father of 
the universe, who knows that, of all his 
creatures, we should be the most miser- 
able without the reciprocal aid of one 
another, has, for our own interest, com- 
manded us to love our neighbours as 
ourselves. 

Besides, as we can make no recom- 
pence to God for his continual favours 
to us, we should shew our gratitude to 
him by our kindness to his creatures, 
and be glad, at his desire, and for his 
sake, to do all the good we can to our 
neighbour. 



OF RETIREMENT. 19 

Having thus lightly touched upon a 
few of the many virtues we ought to 
cultivate, and the many errors we ought 
to avoid in retirement, 1 shall only add 
a very short sketch of the proper em- 
ployment of every day, to prevent our 
minds from growing torpid, our health 
from being impaired, and our hours 
from becoming tedious to us, through 
inaction. 

Let him who has retired from busi- 
ness employ some thoughts every morn- 
ing early in recollecting his past life, in 
mending his heart, and in preparing 
himself after such a manner as may give 
him hopes of meeting with a gracious 
reception at that awful tribunal, where, 
by the course of nature, he must soon 
appear. Let him, in the next place, do 
something in his own profession, accord' 
ing to his capacity, and the opportunities 
of improvement which he has had., allow* 



20 



ESSAY I. 



ing no day to pass away without draw- 
ing (in imitation of Apelles) at least one 
line ; and let him always commit the 
result of his thoughts to writing, that 
he may have recourse to it when he 
pleases, and not be obliged either to 
redouble his labour, or lose what he 
has acquired, when his memory may 
chance to be impaired. Let him then 
(if the weather will permit) ride * or 
walk abroad to partake of those rural 
pleasures which so greatly contribute to 
health of body and vigour of mind. 
What can gratify a man's senses or 
reason more, than to view the various 
productions of the fields, and to con- 
template the wonderful contrivance of 
Providence in their gradual increase, 



* See the charming description which the 
younger Pliny gives of the uninterrupted regula- 
rity of Spurinna, whom he proposes for his model, 
if ever he should arrive at old age. Epist. i. lib. 3. 



OP RETIREMENT. 21 

from the opening seed to the perfect 
plant ? What amazing variety of inimi- 
table beauties does the florist discern in 
the hyacinth, the tulip, the ranunculus, 
auricula and polyanthus ; and in other 
flowers of the different seasons. Or if 
he chuses to raise his eye from those 
smaller objects to the great works of 
nature, what can fill the soul with a 
more awful idea of the Author of our 
being, and with a greater complacency 
in his protection, than the magnificent 
rirospects of hills, lawns, and rivers ; 
mountains, seas, and forests ; with the 
august view of the heavens ; most of 
which one may behold from many de- 
lightful spots in Great Britain. But if 
he cannot go abroad, let him, withki 
doors, employ himself in some bodily 
exercise, of which a great variety may 
be contrived. After this is done, he 
may spend the remainder of the day in 



%% ESSAY I. 

visiting and obliging his neighbours., or 
in such innocent recreations and amuse- 
ments as may be most agreeable to his 
taste ; and then close the evening as he 
began the morning. 

In a word, let him be careful to keep 
his mind fully and rationally employed 
for the present, and his prospect serene 
for the future. But, to prevent the 
loss of that health which gives a relish 
to all other enjoyments, let him not 
neglect the practice of temperance and 
daily exercise. 



23 



ESSAY II. 



OF OLD AGE. 



Old Age may be distinguished into 
three periods. The first may be called 
vigorous or green old age, and may, 
in good constitutions, be supposed to 
extend from sixty to seventy. The 
second may be called declining or 
stooping old age, and may be supposed 
to reach from seventy to fourscore. 
And the third period, which (unless the 
constitution is extraordinarily good) 
may justly be termed decrepit or help- 
less old age, creeps on from fourscore 
to the conclusion of life. When there- 



34? ESSAY II. 

■* 

fore we speak of the happiness or 
dignity of old age, we generally take 
in no more than the two periods from 
sixty to fourscore : for (as we shall 
observe in the sequel) to desire an ex- 
treme old age, or immortality on earth, 
in the present condition of human na- 
ture, would be the most absurd wish 
that ever was conceived ; and, if ob- 
tained, the most pernicious. 

How invaluable a blessing is a virtu- 
ous, cheerful, and healthy old age, when 
the judgment, arrived at full maturity, 
displays more strength and beauty than 
ever it did before ! But such a felicity 
is not common ; and therefore some 
of the ancients would not allow old 
age to be any better * than a middle 
state between health and sickness, while 

* Equidem senectus nee omnino morbus est, 
nee integra omnino sanitas. Galen de partib. art. 
medic, cap. v. 



OF OLD AGE. 25 

others called it the most odious * and 
wretched period of human life. 

How shall these different opinions be 
reconciled ? The truth is, some con- 
stitutions are naturally so infirm from 
their infancy , that scarce could iEscula- 
pius himself (to use Galen's phrasef) 
keep them alive to threescore. If such 
constitution should, by extreme care, 
sometimes live to grow old, their age, 
like their youth, must be subject to 
many complaints, and may properly 
enough be called a middle state be- 
tween health and sickness. It is also 
true, that accidental violence may render 
age, as well as youth, unhappy. But 

* Plerisque sic odiosa est senectus, ut onus se 
iEtna gravius dicant sustinere. Gato apud Cicer. 
de senect. 

f Sunt enim, qui ab ipso ortu adeo improspero 
sunt corporis statu, ut ne, si iEsculapium quidem 
ipsum iis praefeceris, vel sexagesimum annum 
videant. De san. tuend. lib. i. cap. 12. ver. Latin. 



26 ESSAY II. 

when we consider old age singly, and 
apart from those contingent circum- 
stances, we shall find that the distress 
incident to that period arises, for the 
most part, from the fault of the man, 
and not of his years ; and that the riot- 
ousness or imprudence * of youth or 



* One sort of imprudence, innocent indeed and 
bewitching, but fatal to a tender constitution, is a 
too eager and assiduous application to study. Pity 
it is, that a vigorous mind should harass a delicate 
body, and give it no respite, until worn out by 
excessive fatigue, in a few years, it sinks under 
the yoke, and (if I may use that expression) 
crushes the mind in its fall ; whereas, in a mode- 
rate pursuit of knowledge, both body and mind 
might have continued cheerful and healthy to old 
age. Thus fell, lamented by all that had the good 
fortune to know him, * * * *, after he had broke 
his constitution by studying fourteen hours of 
almost every day for several years. He was in- 
deed justly admired for his immense literature, 
and for the candour and probity of his heart, 
which was open and frank, without the least 
tincture of ostentation or sufficiency. How warm 
was his friendship, and how ready to communi- 



OF OLD AGE. 27 

manhood (if Ihey do not destroy life 
in its prime) commonly sow the seeds 
V?hich gradually grow up and afflict 
old age. Such afflictions,, therefore, 
ought to be charged on the vices and 
errors from which they sprung, and 
not imputed as the necessary conse- 
quence of age, which is often free 
from them. 

It is equally unjust to impute such 
evils to what is called a man's hard fate 
or misfortune * ; for, generally speak- 

cate ! But why should a good man shorten his 
days in the pursuit of any science ? A vain and 
transient fame, after he is gone, will make him no 
recompence. And when he shall mingle with 
superior spirits, he will soon perceive how small, 
comparatively, was all that treasure of knowledge 
which he took so much pains to accumulate. 

* Homer introduces Jupiter, complaining that 
men accuse the gods for misfortunes which their 
own folly h rings upon them : 

totes C§otoi mrtoanr»i 9 &c Odyss. lib. I. 32. 

Perverse 



28 ESSAY II. 

ing, that is but a softer name for his 
misconduct. In like manner, * pee- 
vishness, avarice, and censoriousness, 
with which age is reproached, should 
be ascribed to men's bad morals, and 
not to their years ; since we daily see 
young persons who are fretful and co- 
vetous, and old people who are com- 
plaisant and generous to a high degree. 
And though it must be allowed that 
some old men, contrary to all the dic- 
tates of reason and religion, persist in 
these vices, it must be also confessed, 
that the propensity towards them ap- 
peared early in life, and did not com- 
mence with its last stages. Let us sup- 



Perverse mankind ! whose wills created free, 

Charge all their woes on absolute decree ; 

All to the dooming" gods their guilt translate, 

And follies are miscall 'd the crimes of fate. Broom. 

* duaerit, et inventis miser abstinet, et timet uti. 

Difficilis, querulus 

—censor, castigatorque minorum. Hor. 



OF OLD AGE. 29 

pose an old man of good stamina., unhurt 
by former excesses of any kind,, and train- 
ed up in a virtuous course from which 
he has rarely deviated ; can we call him 
wretched ? * So far from it, that such a 
man, by observing a few necessary 
rules with regard to his health, may 
enjoy a larger share of happiness than 
ever he did before. Nay, some great 
geniuses of antiquity went so far, as 
to affirm that old men were particular 
favourites of heaven. + 

In Cicero's admirable treatise De 
Senectute, we read of a multitude of 
great men among the Romans, whose 
age was highly useful to their country, 
and pleasant to themselves. If we be- 

* Profecto videtis, nefas esse dictu, miseram 
fuisse talem senectutem. Cic. de senect. 

■\ 'AQt&votloi ti(aw<ti 'jroiXxior^eq owfywims, Iliad, 
xxiii. lin. 788. 

Th' immortal gods revere a good old man. 



30 ESSAY II. 

lieve Cornaro (and there is no reason 
to suspect his veracity), no period of life 
could be more delightful than his age 
was. But Cornaro, you will say, lived 
over abstemiously and precisely, eating 
and drinking by weight and measure, 
which is a servitude too mean and 
selfish to be undergone for the sake of 
a transient life, that, with all our care, 
cannot be stretched to any considerable 
duration. I will allow, that Cornaro's 
scrupulous regularity was well adapted 
to his delicate and slender frame ; but 
then his method of living is by no 
means necessary, or proper to be imi- 
tated by those of a more vigorous con- 
stitution. The late excellent bishop of 
Worcester, Doctor Hough, eat flesh 
meat sufficient to satisfy his appetite ; 
and drank some wine and strong 
beer every day ; and yet lived in good 
health and spirits, with the perfect use 



OF OLD AGE. 31 

of all his limbs and senses,, to ninety 
three,, and upwards. As to his mental 
faculties, they seemed to be rather im- 
proved than impaired by time. Dis- 
tinguished as he was by the bene- 
volence of his heart, he was no less 
so by his polite accomplishments,, and 
a peculiar elegance and dignity ap- 
peared in all he did and said, to the 
last moment of his amiable life. 

How august and awful is the view 
that Philologus * of Ravenna gives us 
of several Venetian senators, every one 
at least an hundred years old, who 
frequently appeared in public together, 
in his younger days; venerable with 
their white locks and magnificent robes, 
attracting almost the adoration of the 
beholders. This was the lovely effect, 
says our author, of moderation and tem- 

* De vita homin. ultra centum viginti an. pro- 
ducenda. 



32 ESSAY II. 

perance, which he never expected to see 
again, since luxury and avarice had un- 
happily gained so great an ascendant, 
that, in his latter days, scarcely did one 
noble Venetian appear in public, who 
had arrived to the age of ninety. 

You will tell me, perhaps, that these 
gentlemen, and the Romans extolled 
by Cicero, were rich and powerful, 
which made their age respectable ; but 
how shall age and poverty be supported 
together ? Cicero assures us that the 
poet Ennius * supported himself under 
both with great magnanimity. Virgil's 
old Corcyrian + gardener was as happy 
as a king. Many of the ancient phi- 
losophers lived cheerfully under a load 

* Ita ferebat duo, quae maxima putantur onera, 
paupertatem et senectutem, ut eis pene delectari 
videretur. Cic. de senect. 

. -j- Regum aequabat opes animis. Geor. 4. lin. 
132. 



OF OLD AGE. S3 

of years and poverty, declaring 1 , that if 
their wealth was small, their wants 
were still smaller. And surely, it was 
not owing to their riches or power, 
that the first hermits,, who retired from 
the world to avoid persecution, lived so 
long and so serenely in their desarts. 

Would you know these companions 
of age, which make it happy in poverty 
as well as in wealth, their names are 
Virtue, useful Learning, and Health . To 
possess virtue in old age, a man must 
have been, from his infancy, trained 
up in the constant practice thereof. 
The neglect of early discipline is the 
great and fatal error that so frequently 
makes youth stubborn, manhood worth- 
less, and age miserable. If parents (ac- 
cording to the excellent advice of Mr. 
Locke)* would accustom their children, 

* See his book on Education, 
D 



34 ESSAY II. 

from their first dawn of reason, to 
controul their appetites and passions, 
and do always what is right, in spite 
of their inclination to the contrary, a 
short time would jmake them find the 
road to virtue smooth and easy. And 
if they would farther teach their children 
this grand and important secret, viz. 
That to learn early to contract * and 
lessen their wants, would bestow more 
real happiness and contentment than to 
increase their riches ; such instructions 
would lay the first and most solid foun- 
dation for the future felicity of their 
children. But when parents, through 
indulgence or inadvertency, have neg- 
lected proper discipline early, the 
children themselves, as soon as they 
are capable of reflection, should culti- 

* Si ad liaturam vives, nunquam eris pauper ; 
si ad opinio' lem, nunquam eris dives. Epicur. 
apud Senec. opist. 16. 



OF OLD AGE. 35 

vate temperance,, abstinence, and every 
other virtue, which are indispensably 
necessary to their present and future 
happiness. 

As to erudition, or useful learning, 
the second concomitant of age that con- 
tributes to render it happy : It must be 
allowed, that youth is the proper time 
to sow the seeds of learning at our 
schools and universities; but age is 
the season when its noblest fruits are 
gathered, and when the want of it is 
most sensibly felt and deplored. Dur- 
ing the ardour of youth, or vigour of 
manhood, the mind may find some en- 
tertainment in the exercise and occu- 
pation of the body; but when youth 
and vigour are gone, reading becomes 
a wonderful consolation to age. All 
the treasures of the antients, in those 
valuable branches of knowledge wherein 
they excelled; all the subsequent' im« 
d 2 



36 ESSAY II. 

provements of the moderns,, in many 
useful articles of the arts and sciences ; 
the various achievements and customs 
of mankind^ in the different ages and 
nations of the earth ; their remarkable 
virtues , vices, and examples : all these 
are lost to the man of no erudition. 
The noble entertainment arising from 
such knowledge, to fill up the vacuities 
of his time, which otherwise would be 
gloomy and tedious, affords a plea- 
sure * that neither riches nor honours 
can bestow. How vile and pitiful, 
therefore, is the disposition of those 
parents, who^ by neglecting to give 
their children a proper education, when 
it is in their power, deprive them of 
this inestimable source of consolation ! 



* Est etiam quiete, et pure, et eleganter actae 
aetatis placida ac lenis senectus, qualem accepimus 
Platonis, qui uno et octogesimo aetatis anno scrip 
bens mortuus est. Cic. de senectute. 



OF OLD AGE. 37 

But when this happens to be the case,, 
a man must endeavour to supply the 
defect of education by his own industry, 
which sometimes makes a wonderful 
proficiency. 

The third companion necessary to 
make age comfortable., is health. This 
is principally secured by an early habit 
and daily practice of temperance ; 
by an assiduous use of moderate ex- 
ercise ; by carefully forbearing and 
avoiding what they find from expe- 
rience to disagree with them ; by re- 
moving all impediments to the sound- 
ness of their sleep ; by keeping the 
necessary discharges of the body regular 
with the help of art, when nature,, at 
any time, fails in that office ; and,, lastly, 
by making their company agreeable 
to,, and courted by,, the young and 
sprightly. 

But allowing that these companions 



38 ESSAY II. 

may attend us in our last stages, and 
that old age, for the most part, is vir- 
tuous, learned, and healthful ; yet still 
there seem to be several grievances be- 
longing to that period, which neither 
nature nor art can redress. The an- 
tients, as well as the moderns, differ in 
their sentiments concerning old age. 
Horace * has drawn a hideous picture 



* Multa senem circumveniunt incommoda ; vel quod 
Quaerit, et inventis miser abstinet, ac timet uti ; 
Vel quod res omnes timide gelideque ministrat : 
Dilator, spe lentus, iners, avidusque futuri, 
Difficilis, querulus, laudator temporis acti 
Se puero, censor castigatorque minorum. Hob. 

Old men are only walking hospitals, 
Where all defects and all diseases crowd : 
Oppress'd with riches which they dare not use ; 
In all their actions lazy, timid, cold ; 
Hopeless, morose, full of delays and fears ; 
But eager to protract a wretched life : 
111 natur'd censors of the present age, 
And fond of all the follies of the past. 

Earl of Roscommon. 



OF OLD AGE. 39 

of it ; but Cicero * a most amiable one. 
Originals of both pictures are, no doubt, 
still to be found ; but most, I hope, of 
the amiable kind, especially where men's 
own folly or vice has not been the cause 
of their misfortune. 

We shall here collect, into one point 
of view, the most material grievances 
with which old age is said to be op- 
pressed, and examine whether or no 
there is any reasonable foundation for 
such complaints. 

It is objected then, that age renders 
the body feeble, + and unfit for great 
actions. It deprives men of the plea- 

* See Cicero's elegant treatise De Senectute. 

f Reperio quatuor causas, cur senectus misera 
videatur : unam, quod avocet a rebus agendis ; 
alteram, quod corpus faciat infirmius; tertiam, 
quod privet omnibus fere voluptatibus ; quartam, 
quod haud procul absit a morte. Cic. de sen. 



40 ESSAY II. 

sures * of youth. It exposes them to 
sudden and various illnesses from cold, 
heat, or other accidents. It is more 
obnoxious to contempt and ridicule 
than any other period. It stands often 
single and lonely, without any sup- 
port, bereaved of children, relations, 
and friends ; having outlived the com- 
panions of youth, and being unable for 
new connections. Lastly, old age is 
alarmed and disquieted with the appre- 
hensions of approaching death. 

As to the first objection; it is not 
always true, that age renders men 
unfit for great actions. Abraham was 
eighty years old when he beat the four 
kings near Damascus. Moses was 
above an hundred f when he led the 



* Singula de nobis anni praedantur euntes, 
Eripuere joeos, venerera, convivia, ludura. 

Hor. epistolar. lib. 2. 

f Deuter. xxxiv. 17. 



OF OLD AGE. 41 

armies of Israel through the wilderness. 
And Caleb, the son of Jephunneh, says 
of himself, c< Forty * years old was I 
" when Moses the servant of the Lord 
c ' sent me to espy out the land ; and 
<e now lo, I am at this day fourscore 
<c and five years old, and yet I am as 
cc strong at this day for war, both to go 
ee out and to come in, as I was in the day 
cc that Moses sent me." Besides, great 
actions are not performed by extraor- 
dinary strength of body, but by ex- 
perience, wisdom, courage, and other 
endowments belonging properly to the 
mind. The champions of old, so re- 
nowned for strength of sinews, with 
their massy clubs, and seven-fold shields, 
would at present make but a poor 
figure in a battle, or at a siege, against 
muskets and artillery ; and, even in 

* See Josh. chap. xiv. 



42 ESSAY II. 

ancient times, Cicero remarks, that 
though Ajax was much more robust 
than Nestor, yet the Grecian general 
says nothing of the former, but avows, 
that if he had ten such as Nestor * 
in his army, he should soon demo- 
lish Troy. The strength of old men 
consists in their authority, prudence, 
and capacity, to direct those who 
are younger and more robust. It 
would be endless to recount all the in- 
stances recorded in history, of old men 
who saved their country from ruin by 
their courage, experience, and fore- 
sight. Surely the architect who plans 
the building, and directs the work, is 
not less useful than he who hews the 
stones, or tempers the mortar. Add 
to this, that if old men have lost the 
vigour and agility of youth, they have 

* Vid. Homer's Iliad, lib. 2, lin. 370, et seq. 



OF OLD AGE. 43 

also, generally speaking, lost their re- 
lish for feats of activity; and do or 
should take delight in the nobler and 
more useful exercise of the understand- 
ing, especially in the practice # of doing 
good. 

It is objected, in the second place, 
that age is robbed of the pleasures of 
youth. If by the pleasures of youth 
you mean the gratification of voluptu- 
ousness, it is no great unhappiness to 
be deprived of such pleasures. The 
eagerness of men to indulge themselves 
in unlawful pleasures, has been at all 
times, and in all nations > the strongest 



P Aptissima omnino sunt arma senectutis, artes, 
exercitationesque virtutum, quae in omni aetate 
cultae, cum diu multumque vixeris, mirificos effe- 
runt fructus ; non solum quia nusquam deserunt, 
ne in extremo quidem tempore aetatis, verum 
etiam quia conscientia bene actae vitae, multorum- 
que benefactor urn recordatio, jucundissima est. 
Cic. de senect. 



44 essay ir a 

incitement to fraud and violence ; and 
shall that period of life be reckoned the 
most unfortunate, which has the least 
relish for the cause of so much mischief, 
and weans us from those appetites which 
reason could not controul ? If stews 
and bagnios are not frequented at that 
time. of life, are not the loathsome and 
painful diseases that attend lewdness al- 
so avoided ? Is temperance an enemy to 
happiness ? or has ever any man suf- 
fered in his health, fortune, or reputa- 
tion, on account of his sobriety ? Again, 
if old people are secluded from the 
pleasures of youth, they have pleasures 
suited to their taste, which make them 
ample amends. Planting, building, and 
improvements in agriculture, supply 
them with a perpetual source of enter- 
tainment. Is not the reading of history, 
poetry, natural and moral philosophy, 
an inexhaustible fund of instruction 



OF OLD AGE. 45 

and amusement ? And what shall I say 
of the Sacred Scriptures^ where they 
may find so many inimitable sublimities 
and beauties,, both in the style and sen- 
timent, that it is difficult to determine, 
whether the intelligent scholar will be 
more charmed with the prose of Moses 
and the New Testament,* or with the 
poetry f of Job., David, and Isaiah. 
Have not old people the grandeur, 
variety, and sweetness of rural scenes 
and prospects to give them delight ? 
And can they not do good, if they 
please, which alone surpasses all the 
gratifications of irregular appetites ? 

The third argument, that, in an ad- 
vanced age, every slight accident ex- 
poses men to some sudden illness, comes 
next to be considered. It is true, that 

* See Blackwell's Sacred Classics, 
f Vid. D, Lowth de poesi Hebraica. 



46 ESSAY II. 

thoughtless old people are more liable 
to inconveniences from any sudden 
change- in diet, weather, and various 
other incidents, than healthy young 
people, because their strength is im- 
paired;* but it is equally true, that 
their greater experience and knowledge 
should teach them to guard against 
those inconveniences. If, for instance, 
an old man, heated with exercise of any 
kind, shall expose his body suddenly to 
the cold air, or drink any small liquor 
cold to quench his thirst, he will pro- 
bably throw himself into some present 
illness. But is there an old man on 
earth, endowed with common sense, 
who does not know from the sad expe- 
rience of others, or his own, that he 
endangers his health by committing so 
gross an error ? In such a case, there- 

* Accedunt anni, et tractari mollius aetas 
Imbecilla volet. 



OF OLD AGE. 4? 

fore,, we ought to call the sufferer rather 
foolish than unfortunate. In short, we 
shall find, upon a fair calculation, that 
the giddiness and inexperience of our 
early days render us obnoxious to seve- 
ral illnesses, which the care and caution 
of advanced life have taught us to pre- 
vent; and that, upon a just balance, the 
vigour and rashness of youth suffer more 
from external accidents than the debility 
and sedateness of age. 

In answer to the fourth objection, 
which alledges that old people are more 
exposed to contempt and ridicule than 
the younger sort, as their comeliness, 
which once made them amiable, is lost, 
and their strength is impaired, which 
defended them from insults : I will 
allow, that a wicked and debauched old 
age does and ought to meet with con- 
tempt and ridicule ; and, indeed, no 
creature can be more despicable or in- 



48 ESSAY II. 

famous, than a decrepit old fellow af- 
fecting the vices of youth, and corrupt- 
ing others by his nauseous gallantries, 
and vile example. But, on the other 
hand, it is well known, that an useful 
and virtuous age never meets with any 
reproach on account of wrinkles or loss 
of strength ; so far from it, that an awe 
or reverence for the decent and re- 
spectable grey hairs of good old men 
seem to be impressed by nature on the 
minds of all nations. Surely it is no 
mark of contempt shewn to age, that 
the most intricate affairs of kingdoms 
and commonwealths have generally been 
intrusted to the management of men of 
years and experience ; and the son of 
Solomon did not pursue the road to 
honour or safety, when he adhered to 
the advice of his young men, and de- 
spised the admonition of his father's 
counsellors. 



OP OLD AGE. 49 

As to the fifth objection, that age 
stands frequently single and lonely, 
without any support, bereaved of chil- 
dren, relations, and friends, having out- 
lived the companions of youth, and 
being unable to form new connections : 
I answer, in the first place, that such a 
survivance comes very seasonably to 
detach the mind from the cares and 
concerns of this world, and dispose it 
to follow, without reluctance, those 
friends in whom we formerly took de- 
light, into a state of felicity which is 
never more to be interrupted. It is 
also to be observed, that nature, by 
reducing the passions of old people to 
a less degree of violence than in youth, 
and by reminding them that they shall 
quickly follow their ancestors, enables 
them to bear the loss of friends and re- 
lations with more equanimity and re- 
signation than is common among 

E 



50 ESSAY II. 

younger people. But to come more 
closely to the objection : It cannot rea- 
sonably be affirmed, that a healthy and 
cheerful old age is unable to form new 
or useful connections, because we see 
every day, that the conversation and 
friendship of a good humoured and 
judicious old man is more coveted * and 
courted, than those of any young person 
endowed with the same qualities ; as 
some improvement may be made from 
the experience of age, with which youth 
is absolutely unacquainted. Besides, 
young people learn with more pleasure 
from the old than from those of their 
own standing. 

To the last objection, that age is 



* I was told by a physician, who had been in- 
vited to dinner at Paris on purpose to see the 
celebrated Fontenelle, that the conversation of 
that amiable man, at ninety six, was sprightly and 
entertaining to the highest degree. 



OF OLD AGE. 51 

alarmed and disquieted with the appre- 
hensions and terrors of approaching 
death, or rather of that something after 
death, the undiscovered country, from 
whose bourn no traveller returns. Be- 
fore I answer this objection, it will be 
proper to observe, that nothing could 
be more worthy of the divine wisdom 
and goodness, than to plant a strong 
desire of life in the human heart; for 
otherwise any trifling disquietude, or 
unaccountable delusion, might induce 
men every day to destroy themselves. 
From this innate principle, we see that 
when life is in danger, both old and 
young are alarmed. But I must say, 
in answer to the objection now made, 
that old people have much less reason 
to be alarmed. For, supposing that, 
after the expiration of the constitu« 
tional period allotted to man by nature, 
he could live some ages longer, hte 

E 2 



52 essay ir. 

miseries must increase to such a de- 
gree, as would effectually restrain his 
appetite for perpetuity of life., and make 
him ashamed of the pleasing visions he 
might at any time have formed to him- 
self of immortality upon earth. The 
truth of this will evidently appear from 
the following consideration : The me- 
chanism of the human body, upon which 
the vigour of the external senses and 
mental faculties depends, undergoes ne- 
cessary and natural changes through 
time. All the conduits and pipes grow 
narrow and stiff, and the fluids must be 
retarded and obstructed in their circu- 
lation.* The consequences, with re- 
gard to a man's outward form, are 
shocking : Not the smallest trace of his 
youthful comeliness, or reverend ap- 



Gelidus tardante senecta 



Sanguis hebet, frigentque effoetae in corpore vires. 

Virg. 



OF OLD AGE. 53 

pearance of his decent old age re- 
mains : His face becomes withered and 
furrowed,, he loses his teeth and his hair, 
his eyes sink in their sockets., and he 
appears wretched, ghastly, and hideous. 
In the next place, these changes must 
occasion inexpressible pain * and anxi- 
ety that make life a perpetual torment. 
But what is still more deplorable, the 
memory and understanding must be 
gradually impaired, and, after some 
time, quite extinguished, by which our 
old man becomes dead to all natural af- 



* The reason of this is obvious : The blood 
forcing its way from the heart, while the stiffened 
arteries oppose its circulation ; the air, included 
in man's aliment, expanding itself, and almost 
bursting the intestinal tube, for want of that 
power of digestion which formerly restrained it ; 
these, and a thousand other struggles that neces- 
sarily arise during the extreme debility of all the 
organs of the body, must occasion inconceivable 
languors, pain, and restlessness, if men were to 
outlive the periods adapted by nature to their re- 
spective constitutions. 



54 ESSAY II. 

fection, and utterly deprived of the 
benefit of conversation., and of reading", 
that was his best, his last consolation. 
His sight, hearing, taste, and other out- 
ward senses, must decay and perish, 
which cuts him off" from any possible 
relish or attainment of the most lawful 
and natural pleasures : So that, upon 
the whole, our immortal would become 
the most despicable, odious, and morti- 
fying object in the whole creation ; and 
Dean Swift * had reason to say, cc that 
cc no tyrant, were he ever so cruel, could 
ce invent a death to which our miser- 
cc able old man would not run with 
ee pleasure from such an immortality ;■' 
And indeed God is very gracious in 
the appointment of death for his relief. 

* See Gulliver's voyage to Laputa, chap. x. 
concerning the Strulbruggs or immortals, where 
the author (if I may venture to give my opinion) 
writes with more modesty and good sense, than 
in any other chapter of his travels. 



OF OLD AGE. 55 

Again , if, in defiance of those con- 
sequences, our old man should still be 
haunted with the terror of death, he 
should with the strongest effort of his 
reason, endeavour to conquer that ter- 
ror, and make at least a virtue of ne- 
cessity,, by bringing his mind to submit 
cheerfully to that change, which he can 
by no art evade ; and he should arm 
himself with resolution for that combat, 
in which every individual of the human 
race must once, and but once, be en- 
gaged. 

Besides, every old man has a greater 
number of his friends and relations, in 
that undiscovered country, than he can 
have on earth, and those whom he may 
leave behind will quickly follow him ; 
and shall he be afraid to join them 
again ? Does he propose no satisfac- 
tion in the society of those great and 
good men, and those exalted ge- 



56 ESSAY II. 

niuses,* of whom he has heard and 
read so much, and so frequently ? 

But above all, when we consider that 
the same supreme and gracious Intelli- 
gence governs the world of spirits, who 
rules this earth, may we not, from his 
experienced goodness, safely rely on 
him for the security and happiness of 
our future existence? This hope the 
religion of nature f inspires. The 
hopes of the Christian are still more sub- 
lime, removing the doubts, and exalting 
the joys of immortality. 



* O praeclarum diem, cum ad illud divinorum 
animorum concilium coetumque proficiscar: cum- 
que ex hac turba et colluvione discedam. Cic. de 
Senect. 

f Quod si in hoc erro, quod animos hominum 
immortales esse credam, libenter erro : nee mihi 
hunc errorem, dum vivo, extorqueri volo. Cic. de 
Senect. 



57 



ESSAY III. 



A DREAM ; OR VISIONARY REPRESENTATION 
OF THE SOUL'S EMPLOYMENT AFTER 
DEATH. 

READING, last night, in the Uni- 
versal History, an account of the great 
care which the ancient Egyptians took 
to have their bodies embalmed after 
death, and of the immense charges they 
were at to provide sumptuous reposi- 
tories for them, where they should be 
safe and entire for ages ; and consi- 
dering that all this care and expence 
arose from a notion they entertained, 
of the soul's hovering about the body, 
as long as any union of its parts sub- 
sisted ; I was astonished, that a people, 
so rational in other respects, should 



58 ESSAY III. 

adopt such a senseless opinion ! A wor- 
thy occupation,, truly, for an immortal 
spirit, after its enlargement, to watch 
a loathsome carcass for ages, which, 
though formerly united with it, had in 
death neither use nor beauty to make 
its presence desirable. 

How much more noble was the idea 
of Socrates,* who told his friends, after 
he had drunk the hemlock, that his 
body, which they should presently see 
dead, was no part of Socrates, who had 
made his escape from it. But the 
most sublime idea of a future state, and 
most suitable to the dignity of man, 
made after the image of the Creator, is 
that which represents, not only the per- 
fect refinement of the mind, but the 
glorification also of the body, and the 
final conjunction and immortality of 
both. 

* See Plato's Phaedo, 



A DREAM. 59 

Musing thus upon the state of the 
soul after its separation from the body, 
the thought made so strong an impres- 
sion on my mind, that it kept me awake 
for some hours after I went to bed : be- 
fore morning, however, I fell asleep, 
and dreamed that I died suddenly, 
without any previous pain or sickness. 
No sooner was my soul dismissed from 
its confinement, but methought I im- 
mediately felt the happy effects of my 
freedom. All my faculties were in- 
larged, new thoughts sprung up in my 
mind, new objects surrounded me, and 
I was endowed with a new capacity to 
apprehend them. Every thing about 
me was so refined and exalted, be- 
yond any thing I had ever imagined^ 
that there are no words in any lan- 
guage I know to express them. I 
thought myself somewhat like a man 
born blind, who having lived a long 



60 ESSAY III. 

time in the world, and heard people 
often talk of light and colours, had 
formed strange notions of them in his 
own imagination., comparing them to 
different sounds and surfaces, but never 
knew what they really were, until the 
cataracts which shut out the light were 
happily removed from his eyes. 

While I stood anxious and doubtful, 
whether my new existence had any 
thing real in it, or was only an illusion, 
I saw a man breaking out from an in- 
numerable multitude, which was at a 
distance, and coming toward me, and, 
as he drew near, I knew him to be the 
late *****. 

I perceived you to be a little bewil- 
dered, said he, and came, out of pure 
friendship, to encourage you, at your 
first and transient appearance in this 

* One of the most benevolent men that ever 
lived. 



A DREAM. 61 

region. I am indeed so much engaged 
at present, that I cannot shew you those 
things that are most worthy of your 
observation in this place,, but I have re- 
commended you to guides equally will- 
ing, and more able than myself, to give 
you all the information you desire. Yon- 
der they are, farewel. I sadly regretted 
his departure, but my new conductors 
were at hand : The one seemed to be 
a youth of celestial beauty, and to have 
a majesty in his air, and a gracefulness 
in his motion, far above any person I 
had ever beheld; but I was most de- 
lighted with the compassionate kindness 
which appeared in his countenance, and 
which persuaded me that he was come 
for my protection. I was going to 
kneel before him, but, with a smile full 
of tenderness, he hastily prevented me, 
and said, See thou do it not, for I am 
thy fellow servant, and only thy guar- 



62 ESSAY III. 

dian angel. The other was an old man, 
whose figure appeared mean at a dis- 
tance, but venerable as he drew nearer. 
An easy cheerfulness, familiarity, and 
benevolence, conspicuous in his air and 
address (which seemed, nevertheless, in 
some degree to be contradicted by his 
features)* so struck me, that I con- 
cluded him to be Socrates, and thought 
myself very happy in his company. 

You are welcome, stranger, said he, 
with his ancient cheerfulness, what do 
you now think of the descriptions which 
Homer, and our other Greek poets, 
have given of the state of the dead ? 
You are, no doubt, of opinion, that 
their representations of the dead were 
only allegories, invented to deter the 



* See a remarkable print of Socrates in Me- 
nage's Laertius, taken from an antique gem of 
Antonius Augustinus. 



A DREAM. 63 

living from vice,, and incite them to 
virtue ; and allegories certainly they 
were, continued he., partly obscure, and 
partly absurd, and yet under such 
poetical fictions were couched most of 
our inducements to piety and virtue in 
my younger days ; but God, of his 
mercy, has accepted my endeavours 
to please him through a Saviour whom 
I knew not. I longed * for the mani- 
festation of a messenger from heaven, 
who should reveal the will of the Deity 
to man ; but you Christians, who have 
been blessed with such a messenger, 
have generally made a perverse use of 
his doctrine. True, said I, and may 
the Almighty open the eyes and mend 
the hearts of those that are yet to come : 
But pray, good Socrates, may I be per- 
mitted to ask how yon prodigious crowd 
is employed? A multitude makes no 

* See Plato's Alcibiades, ii. 



64 ESSAY III. 

crowd here, said he, as it commonly 
does on earth ; there is no pressing or 
squeezing for place among us ; for as 
our composition is pure and refined, 
whenever any thing is to be seen or 
heard, which naturally brings a multi- 
tude together, we presently slip into a 
theatre prepared to our hands, larger 
or smaller as the occasion requires, and 
every person glides swiftly into his pro- 
per place, higher or lower in the 
theatre; and, as we hear and see dis- 
tinctly at a great distance, there is no 
necessity to thrust ourselves near an ob- 
ject, in order to view or understand it 
more accurately. As to yonder mul- 
titude, you shall know their business 
presently, for we came at your friend's 
request, on purpose to give you a ge- 
neral idea of our common entertain- 
ments in this place. Be wise, and you 
shall see a great deal more hereafter. 



A DREAM. 65 

We then drew near to one of these 
theatres,, which to me appeared a more 
magnificent and beautiful structure than 
I had ever seen or read of before. The 
body of the building, together with the 
columns and decorations within and 
without, seemed to be of the whitest 
and most delicate marble, finished with 
amazing art ; the seats and benches of 
pure gold, and the area of the finest 
emerald ; the whole illuminated with a 
splendour and brightness which I am 
not able to describe. Here an angel 
of high rank was explaining to the spi- 
rits lately arrived, the nature of the hu- 
man mind, the beauty, extent, and ne- 
cessity of virtue ; the reasons of the 
soul's connection with the body, the 
bands of their union ; and the certainty 
of a resurrection. The audience lis- 
tened with admiration and joy, and I was 
so charmed with the entertainment, and 

F 



66 ESSAY III. 

so eager to understand the subject! he 
"treated on, that I would have continued 
there, had not my guides admonished 
me to step further. 

I shall conduct you next, said Socrates, 
to an assembly which seldom meets, 
but happens to be now sitting. It is a 
rendezvous from all nations, of those 
who made it their business on earth to 
inquire with reverence into the works 
of God, from the solar system and ec- 
centric comet, down to the smallest 
plant and minutest insect. It is not 
here, continued he, as on earth, where 
the human mind, from the narrowness 
of its capacity, and the richness of the 
works of creation, is obliged to confine 
itself to one branch of knowledge. Here 
the mind is so enlarged, that the former 
study of an age is soOn acquired, and 
yet the fulness, variety, and beauty to 
be met with in every work of the AI- 



A DREAM, 67 

mighty, are so inexhaustible, that they 
will furnish new arguments of admira- 
tion and praise to all eternity. This 
assembly meets at stated times, in order 
to communicate their discoveries one 
to another. A genius practised in such 
contemplations, either learns from a su- 
perior spirit, the true nature and essence 
of any substance which he desires to 
know, or travels himself, in a very little 
time, to any remote part of the universe, 
to make discoveries on the spot. The 
discovery that he has made (for there 
is but one language here) is communi- 
cated to the whole assembly, and every 
member takes his turn ; while, at the 
same time, a company of angels assists 
to do honour to the assembly, and far- 
ther elucidate, if desired, the facts re- 
lated by each speaker : And upon every 
new discovery, a shout of praise and 
thanksgiving is sent up to Him whose 

F 2 



68 ESSAY III. 

power and wisdom are infinite. My 
guides had been drawing near to this 
assembly all the while that Socrates was 
describing it ; and we came up at the 
moment when a member,, who had at- 
tended a comet in several directions/ 
through different tracks of space, ex- 
plained to the society the curve which 
it described, and the cause by which its 
motions were regulated in the various 
parts of its rapid course; upon which 
one of those joyful hallelujahs, men- 
tioned before, was sung by the whole 
company. The splendour and majesty 
of this assembly so transported me, and 
the sweetness of the music filled my 
heart with such delight, that I attempted 
to join in the chorus, but found my voice 
too feeble for their exalted pitch. 

Observe there, said Socrates, (point- 
ing to a stately portico near this as- 
sembly) a select company of contempla- 



A DREAM. 69 

tive sages surrounding that graceful and 
radiant seraph, who to their entire satis - 
faction, and transcendent joy, unfolds 
to them those mysteries of Providence 
which they could not comprehend on 
earth, and clears up every obscure step 
of the divine oeconomy, with which 
they desire to be made acquainted. 

But do not imagine, from what you 
have yet seen, that this region is de- 
stined to bestow happiness only upon 
the inquisitive and learned. Piety, 
righteousness, and charity, practised on 
earth are infinitely more regarded here 
than science ; but at the same time I 
must tell you, that all who are admitted 
hither, whether male or female, old or 
young, Grecian or Barbarian, (as we 
Greeks used arrogantly to distinguish 
mankind) become soon more knowing 
than the most learned man on earth 
ever was. For, as the different attain- 



70 ESSAY III. 

merits of men among you arise,, for the 
most part, from the different disposition 
of their organs., and their different op- 
portunities of improvement ; and as 
the organs and opportunities of all here 
are equally good, the only conspicuous 
regard paid to human creatures in this 
place, arises from the different degrees 
of piety and virtue, which they acquired 
in their state of probation ; and you 
will find that they are ranked accord- 
ingly, but still without raising any envy 
or jealousy in those of inferior degree; 
for every individual is conscious, that 
he enjoys the greatest felicity he is ca- 
pable of, and unspeakably more than he 
deserved. 

I must also inform you, that virtuous 
friendships cultivated on earth are not 
broke off here ; for though every crea- 
ture you see loves you, and is wonder- 
fully ready to oblige you, yet next to 



A DREAM. 71 

the presence and favour of God, your 
friends are the greatest delight of your 
heart. Here are myriads of husbands 
and wives, parents and children, rela- 
tions, companions, and neighbours, ex- 
pressing their minds in the highest 
strains of gratitude and praise to the 
Supreme Being; who, after all their 
tedious care and solicitude on account 
of each other, after all the vexations 
and disappointments they met with in 
the world, has at last admitted them into 
those blessed mansions, from which 
every sort of wickedness and distress is 
banished for ever, and where they will 
see each other happy, without interrup- 
tion, and without end. 

Your own eyes, said he, shall con- 
firm the truth of what I have told you ; 
and immediately he conducted me to 
the summit of a high hill, where all 
the great beauties of nature lay blend- 



72 ESSAY III. 

ed together, in a charming wildness 
around me, and where the whole re- 
gion was full of people; but when I 
fixed my eye on any particular pros- 
pect, it appeared like an immense gar- 
den laid out with a regular variety, 
where the verdure of trees and lawns, 
the beauty of flowers and fruits, the 
brightness and motions of waters, and 
the contrast of light and shade that ap- 
peared through the whole, formed the 
most delightful landscape I ever be- 
held. 

In yonder arbours, alcoves, and 
walks, continued he, you have a view 
of the relations and friends I mention- 
ed, in conversation sweet and pleasing 
beyond all human imagination. You 
see also theatres, porticos, pavilions^ 
temples, chapels, and oratories, of va- 
rious materials, dimensions, and archi- 
tecture, where larger and smajter com- 



A DREAM. 73 

panies frequently meet to improve 
themselves in every heavenly virtue, 
to admire the works of creation and 
providence,, and to adore the Author 
of all their felicity ; at which times., 
to their inexpressible joy, they are 
admitted into as full a view of the trans- 
cendent glory of the Almighty., and 
as large a participation of his favour, 
as their respective minds are at present 
able to receive. Here Socrates paused 
a moment, and I looked into two or 
three of those temples and oratories, 
where, with the utmost pleasure, I 
beheld several of my departed friends, 
whose lives were exemplary for piety 
and goodness. Some of these, in loud 
and melodious anthems, exalted the 
name of their Creator, and some, in ex- 
pressive silence mused his praise*, 

* See the hymn at the conclusion of Thom- 
son's Seasons. 



74 ESSAY III. 

Their garments shone like light, a ra- 
diant crown encompassed their heads,, 
and their countenances discovered so 
much satisfaction and benignity, that the 
very sight of them was transporting. 
Blessed society, cried I ! no wonder the 
martyrs of old, and good men in all 
ages, despised temporary afflictions for 
the joy which was set before them. Bles- 
sed indeed, said Socrates, and yet how 
easily may that blessing be attained ! 
What madness has possessed mankind, 
that they could not all come to this 
place, considering the rational and 
advantageous conditions required of 
them, the gracious encouragements given 
them, and that none are finally ex- 
eluded, but those perverse wretches, 
who have contracted such deliberate 
habits of malice and wickedness, with- 
out repentance, that our conversation 
and employment here would be disa- 



A DREAM. 75 

greeable and irksome to them, sup- 
pose they could be admitted. But 
there is a very different abode appoint- 
ed for miscreants, who took pleasure 
in affronting the Deity, and injuring 
their neighbour. 

He then led me to the brink of a 
dreadful precipice : Look down there, 
said he, and view the habitation of mi- 
sery, and listen to the groans of an- 
guish. What the final result will be 
with respect to these criminals, God 
only knows, who punishes for the sake 
of justice, example, and amendment, 
and not through fear, anger, or re- 
venge, as man often does. One thing 
we are sure of, which is, that the 
great Judge of the universe will finally 
determine what is wisest, best, and fit- 
test to be done with respect to all his 
creatures, to the full conviction of every 
rational being. 



76 ESSAY III. 

I find that Christians daily offer up 
this petition to the Deity, Thy kingdom 
come, in a prayer taught them by him 
who perfectly knew the will of heaven. 
But how can God's blessed kingdom 
of universal righteousness, charity, ho- 
liness, and happiness come, while so 
many myriads of reasonable creatures 
continue disobedient and refractory ? 
May not punishment, proportioned to 
the heinousness of their crimes, and to 
the malevolence of their dispositions, 
together with some remote hope or 
possibility of pardon, or some other 
method contrived by infinite wisdom, 
though unknown to us, at last produce 
humiliation and amendment? Whereas 
eternal and horrible despair can pro- 
duce nothing but blasphemy, malice, 
and distraction, which seem repugnant 
to the ends of creation, and to that 
order and beauty preserved in the go- 



A DREAM. 77 

vernment of the universe. Does it be- 
come weak and ignorant man to af- 
firm., that there shall be no end of sin, 
which is so hateful to God, whose pre- 
rogative it is to bring order out of con- 
fusion ? but my sight is too feeble to 
penetrate so far into futurity. To the 
wisdom, justice, and goodness of God, 
therefore, I leave the fate of those 
unhappy criminals to be determined. 
But I perceive that such a dismal scene 
shocks you ! This exalted spirit, con- 
tinued he, (bowing respectfully to my 
guardian angel, who accompanied us 
all the while) can entertain you better. 

The angel then taking me graciously 
by the hand, said, I am glad to meet 
you here in any shape, because I hope, 
that what you see among us will give 
you a just idea of the value and dignity 
of the human mind, and evermore in- 
duce you to pursue objects worthy of 



78 ESSAY III. 

that image after which you was created. 
How vain,, trifling', and transient, are the 
honours, wealth, and pleasures of the 
earth, compared with the transcendent 
and endless happiness enjoyed here ! 
The great privilege and glory of man, 
his principal and almost only superiority 
over the beasts of the field, consist in the 
relation in which he stands towards God ; 
in being made after his likeness, capable 
to serve him, and to enjoy his presence 
and favour for ever. The time will come, 
when the righteous among mankind 
shall be raised to the rank * in which 
I now stand, and perhaps a great deal 
higher, through the favour of the Al- 
mighty, who is perpetually enlarging 
our capacities, and drawing us nearer 
to himself in every kind of felicity. My 
endowments, at present, excel what 

* See Spectator, No. 3. 



A D&EAM. 79 

they were at my first production ; for 
it is impossible to have so near a view 
of the wisdom, goodness, and holiness 
of God, as we enjoy in this place, 
without receiving continual improve- 
ments. You think your faculties greatly 
refined by a cursory mingling with 
the world of good spirits. How will 
they be really exalted, if ever you 
come to dwell in these regions, where 
the source of all perfections is visible ? 
How often have I pitied your folly, 
when you have given way to your pas- 
sions and appetites, and deviated from 
your plain and known duty, which is 
the only path that leads hither. I could, 
and did frequently guard you from the 
snares of men, and wicked spirits ; and, 
in inanifest dangers, seconded the re- 
monstrances of your own conscience, 
by suggesting proper reasons against sin, 
while yet your mind hesitated between 



80 . ESSAY III. 

your duty to God and the allurements 
of the world. But 1 had no orders to 
over-rule your freedom, or defend you 
from yourself, when you was perversely 
determined to gratify your vicious in- 
clinations. Come, nevertheless, (con- 
tinued he, with an air of tenderness 
and compassion) I will now conduct 
you to yonder eminent temple, and will 
there shew you as much of the external 
majesty of the Almighty, as a dim- 
sighted mortal can behold. And, as 
we went along, he continued his gra- 
cious discourse in the following manner. 
O that men would sincerely endea- 
vour to entertain a just conception of 
the Deity, of his excellencies and per- 
fections ; and would in all events re- 
solve, to the utmost of their power, to 
perform the plain and obvious duties 
of loving God and their neighbour, 
and never quit the road of righteousness 



A DREAM. 81 

and holiness, to search for any other 
by-paths to heaven : hereby they might 
secure to themselves, through the merits 
and intercession of the great Redeemer, 
a joyful reception into this region of 
light and truth, where their capacities 
would soon be enlarged, all their mis- 
takes rectified, and themselves made, 
beyond imagination, happy. How much 
wiser would such a conduct be, than to 
wrangle and dispute concerning difficult 
points, which they do not yet under- 
stand, hating in the mean time and 
persecuting their neighbours, because 
they differ in opinion with them on 
those abstruse speculations. There is 
nothing more certain, than that the 
supreme Being cannot make himself 
less infinite than he is in every excel- 
lence, in order to accommodate his 
immensity to the narrow apprehension 
of mankind, or make his conduct, in 

G 



82 ESSAY III. 

every instance,, obvious to the human 
understanding. Why then should such 
a weak., ignorant creature., as man^ 
break through all the plain rules of 
charity, swell with pride, and damn 
and persecute his neighbours,, because, 
in some high and intricate points, they 
cannot think as he does ? O that they 
would all rather strive, by a sincere and 
humble practice of piety and virtue, to 
arrive at this place, where their under- 
standing will be wonderfully enlight- 
ened, and all their doubts quickly re- 
moved ! We, whose intellectual facul- 
ties are far superior to those of man, 
when we contemplate the divine nature 
and perfections, and his government of 
the universe, perpetually discover new 
glories, and new matter of wonder 
and adoration, and shall discover more 
and more, to all eternity. Nay, (to 



A DREAM. 83 

use the words * of one of your own 
species), 

Eternity is too short to utter all his praise. 

As the angel had pronounced these 
words, we found ourselves near the 
temple, and I perceived innumerable 
rays of a glorious light darting from 
it, which far surpassed the sun in bright- 
ness, and yet rather invigorated than 
dazzled the sight. But when we ar- 
rived at the outer gates, and the angel 
was going to open one of them, con- 
scious of my own unworthiness, and 
afraid to appear in the presence of him 
whose eyes are purer than to behold ini- 
quity, I was struck with so great an awe 
of the majesty and holiness of God, 
that I immediately awaked, and found 
my bed trembling under me. 

* Addison's hymn in Spectator, No. 453. 

Cr 2 



MEDITATIONS 



ON 



SEVERAL SUBJECTS. 



MEDITATION I. 



ON THE DAY FAR SPENT. 

WITH me the day is far spent,, and 
the night is at hand. The great busi- 
ness on which I was sent into the 
world is scarce begun ; and yet I know 
that I must and shall soon appear 
before the tribunal of God, to give 
an account of my behaviour. Awful 
thought! What shall I do? I would 



86 MEDITATION I. 

gladly return to thee, O my Father 
and my God, and dedicate the remain- 
ing part of my life to thy service. But 
wilt thou accept the offer which I make 
at the eleventh hour ? especially since 
it was not through any want of the 
strongest inducements to serve thee, 
that I have so long continued to neg- 
lect my duty, but because I was a 
slave to my own unruly appetites and 
passions, and stifled the witness of God 
in my heart, which remonstrated against 
my follies. I have no plea for my trans- 
gressions, and therefore have reason to 
dread thy displeasure. Shall 1 then de- 
spair of the mercies of my God ? No ! 
That I will never do, for though he slay 
me, yet will I put my trust in him. 
When I reflect on the time past of my 
life, and review the part which I have 
acted in the world, the retrospect is indeed 
gloomy and comfortless. I tremble at 



ON THE DAY FAR SPENT. 87 

the remembrance of my trespasses. The 
frequency and guilt of them are dread- 
ful to me. I have trespassed against 
every obligation to gratitude., and have 
employed the very favours which God 
bestowed upon me, to purchase the fol- 
lies of sin. On the other hand, when 
I consider the relation in which I stand 
to the great God and Father of all, 
and view the part which he acts to- 
wards his creatures, the prospect grows 
clearer; I must not, I cannot despair. 
He was pleased to create me after his 
own image, to make me capable of serv- 
ing him, of being admitted into his pre- 
sence, and of enjoying his favours for 
ever. His mercies have followed me 
all the days of my life. He has sup- 
ported me under a multitude of adver- 
sities, any one of which might have 
overwhelmed me, had not his goodness 
interposed. He has even defended me 



88 MEDITATION I. 

against myself, and protected me against 
the natural consequences of my own 
wickedness and folly. The conveni- 
encies and comforts of life which I en- 
joy, I owe all to his bounty. The 
happy opportunity of recollection and 
amendment,, which he has graciously 
vouchsafed to bestow upon me, free 
from the cares and dissipations of the 
world, is a mercy for which my soul 
desires to bless and praise him for ever. 
But, above all, when I consider, that 
God so loved the world, as to send his 
own Son to redeem it, and to call sin- 
ners to repentance and favour; this 
amazing testimony of his condescension 
and goodness is sufficient to revive the 
most languid hope ! Why art thou, 
therefore, cast down, O my soul, and 
why art thou disquieted within me? 
Hope thou in God, for I shall yet 
praise him, who is the light of my 
countenance, and my God, 



89 



MEDITATION II 



ON THE EXAMINATION OF THE HEART. 

WHEN I examine my own heart, 
I find that I have committed a mul- 
titude of grievous sins, for which I 
can make neither apology nor resti- 
tution, and for which I am ashamed to 
lift up my eyes unto God. And even 
yet, while I am ashamed of my past of- 
fences, I still find an undisciplined pro- 
pensity in my heart to hesitate between 
my duty to God and the delusions of 
the world, and to extenuate faults, 
which a sincere and upright soul would 
condemn without any deliberation. I 
find also in myself, on several occasions, 
an impatience of contradiction, and a 



90 MEDITATION II. 

peevishness which cannot be pleasing 
to God or to my neighbour, and which 
I would be glad to conquer. O most 
merciful Father, how different is my 
disposition from the meekness, humility, 
and patience, of my Redeemer ! O 
when shall I seriously and constantly en- 
deavour to imitate his virtues ? Upon 
the whole, in all my scrutiny, I find 
myself guilty in the sight of God, and 
have no hope left but in his goodness, 
and in the merits and intercession of 
my Redeemer. I will therefore throw 
myself at his feet, for as his majesty is, 
so is his mercy. Though I am but 
dust and ashes, yet he is my Father, 
and let him dispose of me as he pleases. 
If his infinite goodness will fully and 
freely pardon my transgressions for the 
sake of my Redeemer, blessed be his 
glorious name for ever, But if my sinsr 
are so great, my repentance so insincere^ 



ON THE HEART. 91 

that I must be punished for my amend- 
ment ; even in that case, blessed be his 
adorable name, and let his holy will be 
done,, and let me submit with resigna- 
tion and cheerfulness to his fatherly 
corrections., and though he should slay 
me, yet let me put my trust in him, 



92 



MEDITATION III. 



OF man's interest in the perfections of 

THE DEITY. 

OMNIPOTENCE is his shield ; un- 
erring wisdom his guide ; boundless 
goodness his present joy and future 
hope ; infinite holiness and rectitude his 
example to be imitated,, according to 
his poor capacity, and a light to shew 
him his own vileness : Infinite majesty 
inspires him with awe and reverence ; 
and infinite justice with righteousness 
and obedience. Omniscience and om- 
nipresence strike him with terror when 
he does evil, and fill him with joy when 
he does well. The relation of Creator 
and Father engages him to love and 



A PRAYER. 98 

adore: God's natural and moral go- 
vernment of the worlds gives peace and 
security to his mind, as it satisfies hinr, 
that the divine providence can and 
always will bring order out of con- 
fusion. 

A Prayer, formed upon the conside- 
N ration of some of the attributes of 
the Deity. 

O GOD, who didst create man after 
thy own image, vouchsafe to give me 
right conceptions of thee, and to im- 
print on my soul the awful considera- 
tion of thy glorious attributes, so deeply, 
that I may, at all times, be ashamed 
and afraid to offend thee. Let me, with 
joy and adoration, contemplate thy 
amazing love, in sending thy Son into 
the world to redeem lost man. Oh ! 
that I could, in return, love the Lord 



94 MEDITATION III. 

my God, with all my heart, with all 
my soul, with all my strength, and with 
all my mind; and shew the sincerity 
of my love, by yielding a perfect obe- 
dience to all thy commandments. 

Stamp on my soul a deep impression 
of thy goodness, which every creature 
partakes of. O let me pay my tribute 
of gratitude and praise for this thy in- 
estimable goodness and beneficence as 
long as I have any being : And let me 
always endeavour to do good to my 
fellow creatures, who stand in need of 
my assistance, as far as my feeble power 
reaches. 

Let me perpetually bless thy wisdom, 
which, in every dispensation of thy pro- 
vidence, uniformly does what is fittest 
and best, which brings order out of 
confusion, and light out of darkness. 
Surely, thy infinite wisdom challenges 
my cheerful resignation to thy holy will 



A PRAYER, 95 

at all times, and forbids my repining at 
thy dispensations, upon any pretence 
whatsoever. 

Let me never forget thy omnipresence, 
before which I continually stand, and 
from which no privacy or darkness can 
hide me. And since it is impossible to 
flee from thy presence, O teach my soul 
to take delight in thy vicinity, and avoid 
every thought, word, and deed, that can 
give thee offence. 

Permit me to adore thy omnipotence, 
which made the universe out of no- 
thing, and supports it every moment. 
And from the consideration of this at- 
tribute, let me put my entire trust in 
thee, and, being careful to do my duty, 
let me cheerfully leave the event of 
every thing that concerns me to thy 
disposal. 

Imprint upon my soul thy truth and 
rectitude, which challenge from me a 



96 MEDITATION III. 

thorough sincerity and uprightness of 
heart, an aversion to hypocrisy, to all 
intercourse with sin, and to every kind 
of hesitating between God and mam- 
mon. 

Let me stand in continual awe of thy 
justice, which will by no means clear 
the guilty and impenitent, and which 
warns me to sin no more, lest I should 
be cut off amidst my provocations, and 
have my portion with the wicked. 

Let thy blessed Spirit enable me to 
revere thy holiness, which is more pure 
than that thou canst behold iniquity. 
O ! when shall I learn to abhor myself, 
and repent in dust and ashes for my 
many transgressions ? Cleanse me, O 
most holy God, from every pollution, 
that thou may est not think me too vile 
to be received among the number of 
thy servants. 

Give me, O God, an awful impres- 



A PRAYER. 97 

sion of thy serenity and peace, which 
pass all understanding! Clear my soul 
from every confusion. Wean my heart 
from all unreasonable attachments to 
this world : and for the merits and in- 
tercession of Jesus Christ, vouchsafe to 
bestow upon me all those graces and 
virtues that will secure me thy peace 
and favour for ever. 



H 



98 



MEDITATION IV. 



OF THE VANITY OF RICHES, HONOUR, AND 
SENSUAL PLEASURES, COMPARED WITH 
PIETY AND VIRTUE. 

I HERE is no secure or permanent 
comfort in any thing but in thy favour, 
O eternal God, who art the same to- 
day, yesterday, and for ever, without 
variableness or shadow of turning. 
Every thing else which we possess, 
is vain, fluctuating, and unsatisfactory. 
Those things which men pursue with 
the greatest eagerness, what solid and 
lasting comfort can they bestow ? Are 
not riches, honour, power, pleasure, and 
friends, the principal objects which we 
have in view, and court with the great- 
est assiduity and earnestness ? Let us 



OF VANITY. 99 

therefore examine them respectively, 
and see what permanent satisfaction 
any or all of them can afford. 

Riches frequently take to themselves 
wings and flee away, and leave the 
owner much more unhappy than they 
found him. Unfruitful season s, bad 
money securities, controverted titles to 
estates, losses by fire and water, false 
friends, intemperance, profuseness, long 
sickness, civil wars, and a hundred ac- 
cidents besides, which we can neither 
prevent nor remove, may deprive us of 
riches. Have not I seen, with pity 
and regret, several who were the boast 
and envy of the cities where they lived, 
come to poverty and contempt in a few 
years ? Wealth is indeed a blessing, if 
it is employed in a subserviency to vir- 
tue, otherwise it is a snare and a curse. 
Adored for ever be thy name, O most 
gracious God, who, by means of my 
h 2 



100 MEDITATION IV. 

labour and industry, hast vouchsafed to 
bestow upon me a competency of the 
good things of this world. Enable me 
to make a proper use of thy bounty, 
and to consider, that as 1 received all 
from thy gracious hand, so it is my 
duty to employ what is still thy own, 
according to thy desire. Preserve to 
me, if it is thy blessed will, what thou 
thyself hast been pleased to give me, 
amidst all the dangers that surround 
me ; but if thou shouldst think proper 
to do otherwise, let me not only be 
contented, but cheerful under thy dis- 
pensations, and let me, in every event, 
bless and praise thy holy name for ever. 
As to honours, if they minister to 
pride, and tempt to sin, the possessors 
were much better without them. As 
to that honour, particularly, which de- 
pends on popular applause, there is no- 
thing more inconstant, or less valuable : 



OF VANITY. 101 

The voices which are loud for you to- 
day may, through faction or envy, with- 
out any fault of yours, be as clamorous 
against you to-morrow. Of this there 
have happened a thousand instances in 
every country. And as to tides of nobi- 
lity, if they are not accompanied with 
merit, they make the owners more uni- 
versally contemptible, since persons of 
high quality are, by their station, more 
conspicuous than their inferiors. O 
my God, let me never covet any other 
title of honour but that of being thy 
faithful servant. 

Power, unless it is hereditary, is gene- 
rally obtained and supported by fraud, 
faction, corruption, or violence, and 
lasts no longer than those means sub- 
sist ; and the hatred, envy, and re- 
venge which commonly pursue it, sel- 
dom fail at last to overtake and pull it 
down. But suppose it hereditary, yet 



102 MEDITATION IV. 

still the trouble which attends it, and 
the bad use which is commonly made 
of it, make it, for the most part, as sad 
experience has demonstrated, a burden 
and a snare,, rather than any real bene- 
fit to the possessor. 

Let us next enquire what solid com- 
fort can arise from sensual pleasures. 
Infamy and disease never fail to attend 
them, unless they are constantly kept 
in subjection to reason. And is it not 
shameful to place our happiness in such 
gratifications as put us directly upon a 
level with the brutes ? O my God, let 
thy grace enable me to keep my appe- 
tites and passions always within the 
bounds which thou hast prescribed. 

Lastly, as to the friendship of great 
men, a dependence upon them will be 
sure to deceive you, unless you mean- 
ly and perpetually sacrifice your peace 
and virtue to their interest and caprice. 



OF VANITY. 103 

It is notorious,, that an unguarded ex- 
pression, a malicious misrepresentation 
of any thing you say or do, or the 
smallest mistake, is sufficient to make 
them your enemies. And if it is a 
tried friend, a relation, or child you 
depend on, how soon may death snatch 
them away, and blast all your hopes in 
a moment ! Or if a virtuous wife, who 
partakes your cares, who studies your 
ease, and whose exemplary life makes 
religion amiable ; if such a friend, I 
say, is a real consolation, as no doubt 
she is, how is your joy turned into 
mourning, in case you survive her ! 
What heart can conceive a distress equal 
to the loss of such a companion ! And 
who can describe the pangs of grief 
that must attend every remembrance 
of her ! Here, especially, a thorough 
resignation to the will of God, the 
hopes of his support, and the prospect 



104 MEDITATION IV. 

of a happy meeting in heaven., must 
come to your relief, or you are wretch- 
ed indeed. How properly,, therefore, 
do the Scriptures caution us against put- 
ting our trust in princes, or in any child 
of man, because there is no help in them. 
O most merciful Father, wean my heart 
from all the sinful pleasures of this world, 
and from all reliance on wealth, power, 
or friendship therein, but let my affec- 
tion be wholly fixed on thee, and be 
thou my friend, my guide, and my de- 
pendence for ever. 



105 



MEDITATION V, 



OF TIME. 

TlME is one of the greatest blessings 
bestowed by the Almighty on his ra- 
tional creatures, and yet we commonly 
make a very bad use of it. In the 
days of health and affluence we think it 
too short, and cannot spare any part of it 
from our pleasures to bestow upon our 
duty. In the days of affliction,, indeed, 
we think it abundantly long and tedi- 
ous ; and then,, if at all, are most like- 
ly to employ it well ; but, generally 
speaking, we seem to be insensible of 
its true value until we are ready to lose 
it. That it may be of inestimable use 
to us, we plainly perceive, when we 
give ourselves leisure to think, for se- 



106 MEDITATION V. 

veral reasons : First, Because our re- 
flections upon it, when properly em- 
ployed, never fail to make us happy. 
How unspeakable a blessing is perpe- 
tual duration to angels and saints, who 
are conscious of having done their duty 
to their gracious Master, and who enjoy 
his love and favour throughout that du- 
ration ! 2. Because, even in the declen- 
sion of life, we may still redeem the 
former time which we have mis-spent, 
provided we make no tarrying to turn 
to God, and put not off from day to day. 
3. Because, after we have obstinately 
persisted in abusing the whole of it al- 
lotted us by the Creator to work out 
aour own salvation, and when we stand 
on the extremest verge of life, ready to 
drop into another world, we would 
give all the riches of the earth, if we 
had them, to bring back a portion of 
the time which we fatally misemploy- 



OF TIME. 107 

ed, in order to reform our lives, and 
screen ourselves from the punishment 
due to our sins, when, alas,, it is too late. 
How fatal a blindness, how perverse a 
folly is it, therefore, not to lay hold of 
this blessing, while it is yet in our power, 
considering" that it flies from us every 
moment, and is never to return again 
for a second trial of our obedience. 
When we stand on the brink of the 
grave, we see things as they really are, 
without any mask or false colouring. At 
that awful period, power will have lost 
its strength to protect, riches their value 
to relieve, knowledge its voice to instruct, 
and pleasures their charms to allure ; so 
that the power which was not before 
exerted to defend the helpless, the 
wealth which never fed the poor, the 
knowledge which never persuaded to 
virtue, and the pleasures which arose 
from vice, were wretchedly employed, 



108 MEDITATION V. 

or madly pursued, and, at the gloomy 
hour of death, can neither give hope, 
peace, nor comfort. 

How sweet, on the other hand, is the 
reflection of those whose time has been 
employed to good purpose, accord- 
ing to their capacities and stations in 
the world ! How happy is the prospect 
of the great, whose power defended the 
oppressed ; of the rich, whose wealth re- 
lieved the indigent, and raised merit 
from distress ; of the learned, whose 
knowledge diffused a love of virtue and 
piety ; and of every person who did all 
the good, and prevented all the evil in 
his power ? Their time and their talents 
were wisely employed. Death does not 
approach them like the king of terrors, 
but like a friend, who comes to release 
them from the vanity and sorrows of 
this world, and to charm their minds 
with a prospect of that everlasting peace 



OF TIME. 109 

and joy, of which they will soon be put 
in possession. Eternal God, Father and 
Ruler of the universe, take me under 
thy mighty protection, and enable me 
for the remaining* part of my time, by 
a constant practice of righteousness, 
charity, and piety, to acquire such habits 
of loving and serving thee, that the end 
of my days may be the end of my af- 
flictions, and the beginning of that se- 
Tenity and joy which is the everlasting 
portion of thy children, 



110 



MEDITATION VI. 



OF FRIENDSHIP. 

THE comforts arising from the good 
offices of true friendship are so highly 
valuable, above all that riches or power 
can bestow,, that the very mimicry of 
friendship is one of the greatest favours 
which wealth or grandeur can confer on 
those who possess them. It is not alto- 
gether for their own sake that riches 
and power are so much esteemed,, but 
chiefly for the subserviency of those 
friends and partisans which they are 
supposed to procure. And, if you take 
away these friendships,, (false and incon- 
stant as they generally are) riches be- 
come useless, and power vanishes. A 
true virtuous friend has many amiable 



OF FRIENDSHIP. Ill 

qualities, which, in a low degree, faintly 
resemble the attributes of the Deity; 
reason wherewith to advise, love to 
cherish, compassion to pity, wisdom to 
prevent your wants, and sometimes 
power to relieve them ; together with 
integrity and truth to remove all &us> 
picion of deceit and self-interest. In 
short, the benefits accruing from real 
friendship are inestimable : tc A true 
tc friend, says the son of Sirach, is a 
" strong defence, and he that has found 
cc such a one has found a treasure, 
tc Nothing can countervail a faithful 
cc friend> and his excellency is invalua- 
" ble. A faithful friend is a medicine 
" of life, and they that fear the Lord 
" shall find him." 

Suppose a man to be thrown upon a 
desolate island ; and let a superior being 
approach him with a friend in one hand, 
aaad all the riches of the earth in the 



112 MEDITATION VI. 

other,, and give the man leave to chuse 
which of the two he most desired. 
Would he hesitate a moment to chuse 
the friend ? Of what use could riches 
be in his present situation ? Is there not 
something intrinsic in friendship, an in- 
separable blessing, useful at all times, 
and in all places, which power and 
riches, destitute of friends, cannot be- 
stow r 

Our first parent had all the beauties 
of the creation to contemplate, all the 
animals under his jurisdiction, and all 
the pleasures of paradise to enjoy. But 
when a true friend was presented to 
him, he was so transported with the gift, 
that he seemed to neglect all the other 
favours he had received. We hope, 
even at the hour of death, soon to meet 
a virtuous friend who has gone before 
us, or whom we leave behind us in this 
world ; whereas riches and power (ex- 



OP FRIENDSHIP. 113 

eept so far as we have made a virtuous 
use of them) are then to depart from 
us for ever. . 

I bless and magnify thy holy name, 
O my gracious God, for those faithful 
and upright friends with which thou 
hast condescended to favour me. Let 
their good example excite me to love 
and serve thee. And^ O Lord, if it be 
consistent with thy wisdom and justice, 
let our friendship, begun through thy 
mercy here, be cultivated and perpetu- 
ated to all eternity. 



114 



MEDITATION VII 



OF A FUTURE STATE, 

iyyvs, s$h Q£ovti£b<m. ARISTOT. 

WE are in this world so surrounded 
with objects, which continually strike 
one or other of our senses, that we 
find it a difficult task to withdraw our 
attention from them, and meditate on 
things at a distance. But surely, 
when things at a distance are so 
very interesting, as our eternal happi- 
ness or misery must be, and when we 
are absolutely certain, that this distant 
thing will soon be present with every 
individual of us who is now alive, it is 
an unaccountable infatuation never to 



OP A FUTURE STATE. 115 

think of our future condition. If a 
world to come seldom excites our fear 
or hope,, because of its imagined dis- 
tance, it should, at least, employ our 
reason and reflection, because of its 
certainty. But why should not even 
a distant prospect of heaven animate 
and exalt our hope ? To a person who 
attends to the natural consequences of 
the universal practice of virtue in any 
society, what can appear more amiable 
or more to be desired than the felicity 
of heaven ? 

To be admitted into the company of 
angels and saints, eminent in virtue and 
piety, among whom benevolence to 
their fellow creatures discovers itself 
in every action; where, from a pure 
principle of benignity, there is this only 
emulation, who shall most advance the 
happiness of others ; where those who 
are full of knowledge inform them 
I 2 



116 MEDITATION VII. 

that have less,, displaying the wisdom, 
the goodness, the power, and holiness 
of God, to the joy and admiration of 
those whom they instruct ; where an 
universal example of rectitude and pu- 
rity admits no temptation to vice ; but, 
on the contrary, daily improvements 
are made in the knowledge of them- 
selves and of their duty, of the works 
of creation and providence, of God's 
natural and moral government of the 
world, subjects equally charming and 
inexhaustible ; and, above all, where 
the irradiations of God's spirit discover 
his infinite holiness, glory, and goodness 
to every individual, in proportion as that 
individual is fit to receive such improv- 
ing communications : This, indeed, is 
joy unspeakable, which eye has not 
seen, nor ear heard, nor entered into 
the heart of man to conceive. 

View the condition of man in this 



OF A FUTURE STATE. 117 

world, and consider whether his conti- 
nuance here can be any more than a 
small portion of his existence, and then 
say, whether any other object, besides 
piety and virtue, is worthy of his ear- 
nest pursuit ? If, from seventy years, the 
common boundary of old age, you de- 
duct the time spent in the thoughtlessness 
of childhood, in the follies of youth, in 
the cares and anxieties of manhood, in 
the pains and infirmities of old age, in 
sleep, necessary recreations, dressing and 
refreshments of the body ; how much, 
or rather how little, will remain for the 
exercise of our mental faculties, which 
alone distinguish us from the brute cre- 
ation ? Would the wise Creator have en- 
dowed us with a reasonable soul, to be 
annihilated after such a short period of 
reflection ? 

Besides, if we attend to the common 
calamities of human life, why should 



118 MEDITATION VII. 

we imagine, that a gracious God would 
send man into the world to suffer so 
much., and then to be utterly de- 
stroyed? The evils we are subject to 
from natural distempers, from accidental 
hurts, from our own vice and folly, and 
from the violence and wickedness of 
others, are innumerable; in so much, 
that all writers, ancient and modern, 
sacred and prophane, philosophers, his- 
torians, and poets, agree in lamenting 
the afflictions of mankind. To mention 
but a few instances of the most extra- 
ordinary of these calamities : The uni- 
versal deluge, the plague of Athens, the 
destruction of Jerusalem, the persecu- 
tions and wars on account of religion, 
the irruptions of barbarous nations into 
the more civilized countries of Europe, 
the late earthquake of Lisbon, and the 
present war in Germany ! How can we 
reconcile these horrid scenes with the 



OF A FUTURE STATE. 119 

power,, wisdom, and goodness of God 
in his government of the world, if man 
was created only to endure such shock- 
ing miseries, and then to vanish into 
nothing ? It has been calculated by emi- 
nent mathematicians,* that half the 
human race dies before seventeen. If 
therefore this life is but the beginning 
of our existence, and scarce long enough 
to discipline and qualify us for the en- 
joyment of the remaining part, what 
folly, what madness is it to waste the 
present period in any pursuit which will 
be destructive to us when it comes to a 
close ! Sensual pleasures unlawfully gra- 
tified, and riches or power badly em- 
ployed, will obstruct our future felicity. 
Nothing but piety and virtue can qualify 
us for happiness in the yet invisible part 

* See Halley's tables, calculated from the bills 
of mortality in Silesia, and the rules laid down for 
estimating the chances of the duration of lives. 



ISO MEDITATION VII. 

of our duration : Nothing else is worth 
our attention., and whatever stands in 
opposition to them should be rejected 
with abhorrence. We must look upon 
ourselves as individuals only of the great 
system of the universe, unuer the go- 
vernment of one supreme and perfect 
Being-. We must, as far as lies in our 
power, aim at the prosperity of the whole, 
without ever attempting to rob another 
member of the community of any part 
of his convenience in this life, in order 
to appropriate that convenience to our- 
selves. In short, we must sincerely en- 
deavour to do our duty, according to 
the plain and known laws of God, and 
habituate our minds here to partake of 
the pure and virtuous pleasures of that 
society, into which we desire to be ad- 
mitted hereafter, and, with a humble 
submission to the divine will, rather be 
pleased than terrified at the prospect or 
approach of our removal. 



OF A FUTURE STATE. 121 

Almighty and most merciful Father, 
author of my life and all my comforts,, 
who hast vouchsafed to create me after 
thine own image, and to make me capa- 
ble of enjoying thy presence and favour 
for ever, let me not deface that image 
by sin and rebellion against thee. En- 
able me to keep my affections and ap- 
petites perpetually under the govern- 
ment of reason,, and let piety and virtue 
prevail over every opposition to them 
in my soul, during this present state of 
trial. And, since the struggle cannot 
now continue long, let me enter the lists 
against every corruption of my heart, 
with resolution and perseverance, wait- 
ing cheerfully for that blessed day, when 
the tumult of my passions shall subside 
in peace, and temptations to levity or 
vice shall delude no longer. 



12% 



MEDITATION VIII. 



OF CONQUERING OURSELVES. 

TO conquer ourselves, or to bridle 
and check every appetite and passion 
that arise in our minds in opposition 
to reason, is a noble victory, and 
worthy to be obtained, at the expence 
of any labour or trouble which it may 
cost us. Human life, in this world, is 
properly called a warfare : Our appe- 
tites and passions, or the brutal part of 
our composition, are perpetually rebel- 
ling against our reason, sometimes as- 
saulting it with open violence, and some- 
times surprising it by snares too artfully 
laid to be avoided. 

To view the numbers and strength 
of the enemy drawn up against reason., 



OF CONQUERING OURSELVES. 123 

to bring it under subjection, is indeed 
terrible. Furious anger, fierce lust, 
brutal intemperance, rancorous envy, 
cruel covetousness, barbarous revenge, 
indecent pride, dark treachery, and all 
the horrid train of corruption that dwells 
in an undisciplined heart; all these in 
their turns advancing against reason, 
constitute a strong and dreadful band of 
adversaries, which must be opposed with 
the most firm and resolute courage. 
Reason indeed has its auxiliaries ; con- 
science, the witness of God within the 
soul, perpetually declaring for it against 
every kind of known wickedness ; dis- 
grace and shame, together with the re- 
straint of human laws, to withstand vio- 
lence and fraud ; sad examples of dis- 
eases and poverty, to check lust and in- 
temperance ; a moral sense of benevo- 
lence and humanity, to resist covetous- 
ness,, anger, and malice ; and that peace 



124r MEDITATION VIII. 

of mind, and unspeakable complacency, 
which always attend beneficence, to op- 
pose envy and revenge. But, alas, with 
all these resources, reason has generally 
proved too weak for its adversaries, in 
so much, that the wisest observers of 
human nature have pronounced the ma- 
jority * among mankind to be wicked, 
while only a few exalted + spirits, after 
a long and resolute struggle, have been 
able to conquer their appetites and pas- 
sions, and bring them under a thorough 
subjection to reason. 

This was almost universally the case 
of the world before the appearance of 
Christ ; nor need we wonder at it, 
since the best cultivated spirits among 
the heathens were dubious of the im- 
mortality of the soul. Socrates himself 

* nx«ove$ xclxou Bias. 

+ Pauci quos ardens evexit ad aethera 

virtus. Virg, 



OF CONQUERING OURSELVES. 135 

discourses with great uncertainty about 
it just before his death : And this uni- 
versal uncertainty made some of the 
brightest geniuses of antiquity treat the 
rewards and punishments of a future 
life as mere fables;* for if the soul, 
said they, did not subsist after death, 
how should it be affected with rewards 
and punishments? Or, if its existence 
was at best but dubious, wherein con- 
sisted men's encouragement to virtue ? 
And how should a hard race be run 
with vigour, for a prize which no man 
was sure of obtaining, suppose he had 
conquered? But blessed be the God 
of all mercies, the case is now much 
mended, if men would be just to them- 
selves. The Saviour of the world, who 
knew the necessity of righteousness, 
in order to be happy, knew also our 

* Mox te premet nox,fabulaeque manes, 

Et dpmus exilis Plutonia. Hoe. 



126 MEDITATION VIII. 

frailty and temptations to sin., and has 
therefore given greater encourage- 
ments^ and proposed more powerful 
motives and inducements to the prac- 
tice of virtue than the world ever 
heard of before; and thereby has 
added a weight to the scale of reason,, 
which ought to preponderate against 
every opposition. If you ask what 
these motives and encouragements 
are ? I answer, in the first place. 
That our Redeemer has ascertained 
the immortality of the soul, which 
he .alone could do, who came from 
the Father of spirits, who perfectly 
knew the nature of the soul of man, 
and the purposes for which it was 
created. Secondly, He has discovered 
the necessity which the soul is to un- 
dergo, to habituate itself to the love 
and practice of virtue, in order to qua- 
lify it for admission into that abode of 



OF CONQUERING OURSELVES. 127 

purity and holiness, where nothing un- 
clean can ever enter; and, indeed, 
where no spirit, continuing wicked or 
impure, would ever be happy, or re- 
lish the enjoyments of that blessed so- 
ciety, suppose it could enter. Nor can 
I possibly conceive, what well grounded 
hope, or prospect, a sinner can enter- 
tain of future happiness, without believ- 
ing in the merits and satisfaction of 
Christ. He stands, without doubt, 
guilty of many transgressions, for which 
he can neither make any excuse to 
God, nor any restitution to the party 
offended. And therefore, as he can 
make no atonement, how can he ex- 
pect forgiveness ? Whereas the Chris- 
tian has a positive promise from God, 
through the merits and mediation of 
Jesus Christ, of forgiveness and recon- 
ciliation, provided he will repent of the 
evil of his ways, and sincerely resolve 



128 MEDITATION VIII. 

to do his duty for the future. Thirdly, 
He has given us a most gracious assu- 
rance, that the holy Spirit of God shall 
effectually assist all who sincerely en- 
deavour to do their duty ; and shall 
either preserve them from temptation, 
or support and deliver them when they 
are tempted. And fourthly, He has 
suffered death on the cross, to vindicate 
the honour of God's laws, to shew the 
odiousness of sin, to obtain pardon for 
the sincere penitent, and restore him 
to the favour of the Deity. 

With this assistance and encourage- 
ment, therefore, we may conquer** our 
passions, if we endeavour it in good 
earnest, and we have none to blame 
but ourselves for any misery brought 
upon us by our vices. What can a 
wicked man now plead in his own 
justification, when he appears before 
the impartial tribunal of the righteous 



OF CONQUERING OURSELVES. 129 

Judge of the universe ? Will he dare 
to affirm, that as often as his conscience 
remonstrated against his inclination to 
sin, so often, at that instant, he earnest- 
ly intreated of God, for Christ's sa^e, 
to assist him with his holy Spirit to con- 
quer the corrupt propensity of his 
heart ? Ah no ! for then the Father of 
mercies would have granted his re- 
quest. 

Almighty and most gracious God, 
who, of thy infinite mercy, hast sent 
thy Son into the world, to bring life 
and immortality to the clearest light, to 
redeem lost man, and to assure him of 
the assistance of thy holy Spirit, under 
every trial and temptation, while he is 
sincerely determined to do his duty, 
and art ready, at his earnest request, 
to strengthen him in the practice of 
every virtue : Since thou hast done so 
much for us, O let our stubborn hearts 
& 



130 MEDITATION VIII. 

be softened by such a profusion of fa- 
vours ; let us, under thy protection^ 
struggle vigorously against every appe- 
tite and passion, that would draw us 
aside from piety and virtue ; and let us 
not basely betray ourselves, and court 
our own ruin, while thou graciously 
desirest that we should repent, amend,, 
and be for ever happy . 



131 



MEDITATION IX 



OF REPENTANCE. 

WE are commanded to repent of our 
past sins, and amend our lives, if we 
expect admittance in the kingdom of 
God, which may be truly and literally 
said to be near to every individual now 
living upon earth, because the day of 
death will quickly overtake every one of 
us, and fix our doom for ever. 

The word repentance is, in the origi- 
nal Greek of the New Testament, called 
ptrocvoia, which signifies a thorough 
change of mind. When a sinner, 
therefore, is commanded to repent, 
the meaning is, that whereas hitherto 
he has gone on in a course of wicked- 
ness, he must now change his mind 

K2 



132 MEDITATION IX. 

entirely ; he must be sensible of and 
grieved for his former errors,, and must, 
during the time to come of his life., 
proceed in a new and contrary course 
of righteousness. 

The necessity of this change of mind 
will evidently appear, if we reflect on 
the infinite holiness of God ; on the pu- 
rity and piety of angels ; on the sanctity 
and benevolence of the spirits of good 
men , who inhabit the regions of bliss and 
immortality. How absurd and unna- 
tural must it be to imagine, that crea- 
tures immersed in sensuality and volup- 
tuousness^ tainted with envy, hatred, 
and malice, habituated to pride, covet- 
ousness, and lying, or delighted with 
the practice of fraud, cruelty, and re- 
venge, should be admitted citizens of 
the new Jerusalem, wherein dwelleth 
righteousness, and into which any thing 
that dejlleth shall in no ways enter ! 



OF REPENTANCE. 133 

But suppose sinners should be admitted, 
without a sincere reformation of mind, 
what must be the consequence ? If we 
seriously consider the refined pleasures 
and transcendent joys of those blessed 
regions, which consist in conversing and 
having an intimacy with angels and 
blessed spirits, full of knowledge, bene- 
volence, purity, and integrity ; and in 
being received into the presence^ God, 
to contemplate his perfections, and to 
imitate them in a manner adapted to our 
faculties, in holiness, goodness, and 
truth ; how can we imagine it possible, 
that an unreformed sinner should be 
properly qualified to partake of or de- 
light in such entertainments ? 

Shall it be said, that the Almighty 
will himself change their minds instan- 
taneously, and make habitual sinners 
become holy in a moment, without any 
previous repentance ? We do not dis- 



134 MEDITATION IX. 

pute the omnipotence of God, or that 
he can from stones raise up children to 
Abraham. But if it be probable that 
God ever will, by an act of power,, 
change an impenitent sinner into a saint, 
why are we desired to work out our sal- 
vation with fear and trembling f Why 
are we commanded by God to be holy, 
for he is holy? Why are we told the 
soul that sinneth, he shall die f And 
why have we catalogues given us in Scrip- 
ture, of sins which are expressly de- 
clared to exclude men from the kingdom 
of heaven ? In short, if men may com* 
mit what wickedness they please/ and 
God will nevertheless make them holy 
in an instant, without any previous re- 
pentance, it will follow, that all those 
precepts which recommend the practice 
of piety and virtue, are at best useless, 
and might very well be spared. 

It was the opinion of the heathen 



OF REPENTANCE. 135 

philosophers, that the joys of the Ely- 
sian fields consisted principally in men's 
diverting themselves with the same 
amusements, and in partaking- of the 
same entertainments, which gave them 
the highest pleasure* in this world. 
And Mohammed's paradise differs very 
little from the Pagan Elysium. But 
how gross soever these notions be, they 
plainly intimate, that it was natural to 
imagine, that the habits with which 
men left this world, should remain with 
them in the next, and according as these 
habits were virtuous or criminal, should 
there become their torment or felicity. 
And though the joys of heaven, which 
the Christian religion has revealed, are 
infinitely more pure, refined, and per- 
fect, than those which the heathens or 



■quae gratia curruum 



Armorumque fuit vivis, quae cura nitentes 

Pascere equos, eadem sequitur tellure repostos. Virg, 



136 MEDITATION IX. 

Mohammedans have imagined, yet still 
our religion teaches us, that we must 
be initiated into these joys on earth., be- 
fore we can possess or relish them in 
heaven ; that is, we must endeavour to 
practise holiness, righteousness, charity, 
and every other virtue here, before we 
can hope to take delight in the practice 
of them hereafter, since, in the perfec- 
tion, and universality of piety and vir- 
tue, the pleasures of those happy man- 
sions do in a great measure consist. 
From this we plainly perceive, that the 
commandment which enjoins us repen- 
tance, (like all the other commandments 
of God) is calculated purely for our own 
benefit, because, without this obedi- 
ence, we exclude ourselves from that 
felicity which Christ has purchased for 
us, and which is offered to us on the 
conditions of the gospel. 

But farther, repentance is not only 



OF REPENTANCE. 137 

calculated for our benefit, we have also 
great encouragement to the practice of 
it, by the earnest invitation which our 
merciful Father gives us to return to 
him from the error of our ways ; (e Cast 
(C away all your transgressions, and 
" make you a new heart and a new 
<c spirit, for I have no pleasure in the 
" death of him that dieth, says the Lord 
tc God, wherefore turn yourselves and 
cc live." Again, ff If the wicked man 
cc will turn from all his sins that he has 
" committed, and keep all my statutes, 
<e he shall surely live, and his transgres- 
te sions that he has committed shall not 
" be mentioned unto him." Add to this 
the declaration made in the gospel, that 
there is joy in heaven over a sinner that 
repenteth. And also the example of 
the prodigal son : Both which are 
amazing instances of the goodness and 
compassion of our heavenly Father,, and, 



138 MEDITATION IX. 

to a mind susceptible of gratitude, an 
irresistible inducement to repentance. 

Merciful God ! shall we be such des- 
perate enemies to ourselves, and so fa- 
tally negligent of our own happiness, as 
to slight this commandment, of chang- 
ing our heedless and vicious course of 
life, and returning to thee, while yet it 
is in our power to rescue ourselves from 
everlasting misery ? 

And now to bring this doctrine of 
repentance home to myself: What have 
I to plead in excuse for my sins, and for 
my backwardness to repent and amend ? 
How often hast thou, my Father and my 
God, by heaping thy favours upon me, 
invited me to taste and see that thou 
art gracious ! while at the same time, 
the stubbornness of my passions and ap- 
petites, and the allurements of sin, have 
made me cold and backward in thy 
service! I should probably have pe- 



OP REPENTANCE. ' 139 

rished in the foolish indulgence of these 
appetites and passions, if thou, of thy 
infinite compassion, hadst not been 
pleased to spare me, until age and reflec- 
tion have, in some measure, abated their 
power over my reason. And shall I, to 
the last, make a bad use of all thy fa- 
vours ? Shall I now, instead of the mad 
pranks and follies of youth, adopt the 
crafty and over-reaching sins of age ? 
Forsake me not, O my gracious Lord, 
when I am old and grey-headed. I 
have been estranged from thee too long, 
let me now draw near to thee with a 
fixed resolution, never to depart from 
my duty for the future. Let shame 
and grief, for my former transgressions, 
possess my soul with an abhorrence 
against every deviation from my duty in 
time coming. Let the remembrance of 
thy mercies inspire my soul with grati- 
tude to thee, my great benefactor ; and 



140 MEDITATION IX. 

let my hope, through Christ, of thy ac- 
ceptance of my service, (miserable as it 
is, and wretched, alas ! as the offerings 
of a frail heart are still likely to be) de- 
termine my soul to serve thee, if not 
perfectly, yet, at least, sincerely , during 
the short remainder of my continuance 
m a vain and vicious world. 



141 



MEDITATION X, 



OF HEAVEN. 

THOUGH the Almighty is present 
every where, and is not far from any 
of us, as in him we live, move, and 
have our being, yet his operations on 
earth are invisible to mortal eyes. ec Be- 
st hold I go forward, but he is not there ; 
ce and backward, but I cannot perceive 
" him : On the left hand, where he does 
fC work, but I cannot behold him : he 
<e hideth himself on the right hand, that 
rc I cannot see him."* Heaven is the 
place where he displays his glory, and 
manifests himself openly to his servants. 
It will also be the final and everlasting 

* Job xxiii. 8, 9. 



142 MEDITATION X, 

abode of just men made perfect, where 
their joys will be complete beyond the 
utmost extent of their hopes or wishes. 
Those blessed souls which adhered to 
the commandments of God,, in spite of 
all the temptations and snares of a 
wicked world, and ran with patience 
the race that was set before them, are 
there, through the merits and interces- 
sion of the Redeemer of mankind, re- 
warded with everlasting felicity and 
glory. O wretched and foolish heart ! 
wilt thou forfeit this prospect of happi- 
ness for the sake of gratifying an unruly 
appetite, a corrupt passion, or an ill- 
judged affection, for any thing that this 
transitory life can afford ? Can any so- 
ciety be equal to that of angels ? Can 
any felicity be conceived so great, as 
that of being admitted into the presence 
and fav6ur of God ? And (to speak of 
joys less sublime and more familiar to 



OP HEAVEN. 143 

our narrow apprehensions) what charms 
will it not add to the heavenly mansions,, 
to enjoy the innocent and entertain- 
ing conversation of those great men., 
who in all ages have made themselves 
renowned for virtue., genius,, and know- 
ledge ? especially as those extraordinary 
qualities are then discovered pure and 
unmixed with vice or error. What a 
heightening it is to this entertainment, 
that envy, hatred, and malice, so detest- 
able and mischievous on earth, are now 
no more ; and that their place is sup- 
plied by love, sincerity, and universal be- 
neficence. Here poverty, sickness, and 
pain are unknown, where prosperity, 
vigour, and ease reign for ever ! Mo- 
roseness and peevishness are excluded, 
while cheerfulness and complacency 
adorn every mind. Fraud, falsehood, 
and oppression are all strangers, in a 
region where goodness, justice and up- 



144 MEDITATION X. 

Tightness dwell in every heart; where 
joy smiles in every eye,, and glory crowns 
every head ; and where (in the intervals 
of praise, adoration, and thanksgiving, 
offered to the majesty of the Supreme 
Being) a free and familiar conversation 
with angels, saints, and ever blessed 
friends, enlarges, ennobles arid exalts 
the soul. 



145 



MEDITATION XL 



OF PRAYER. 

WHEN we consider our natural 
dependence on God, who created us, 
who preserves us, who supplies all 
our wants here, and from whom 
alone we expect happiness hereafter, 
there cannot be a more valuable pri- 
vilege conferred upon us than to have 
daily and hourly access to this great 
and gracious Being, to be permitted to 
lay all our complaints before him, and 
to offer our supplications to him for re- 
lief. But, happily for us, we are not 
only permitted, we are also invited and 
exhorted to pray to him, and assured, 
that he who seeketh shall find, and that 
to him who knocketh it shall be opened. 
x. 



146 MEDITATION XI. 

That it is our highest honour, and 
the greatest mercy that can be shewed 
us., to be thus required to address God, 
we shall easily apprehend, if, on the 
one hand, we consider his infinite wis- 
dom, power, and goodness, and, on the 
other hand, our own weakness, igno- 
rance, and wretchedness ; that we are 
the lowest of all the rational creation, 
and that by sin we have made ourselves 
miserable, and poor, and blind, and 
naked. 

But why should we pray, since God 
knows our wants before we ask, and our 
ignorance in asking, and since his good- 
ness is infinite towards his creatures, 
and ready to supply all their necessities ? 
I answer, 1st, Because God commands 
us to pray, and what are we, that we 
should dispute his orders ? 2nd, To pray 
shews that we are sensible of our wants 
and of our dependence, which should 



OF PRAYER. 147 

make us more earnest in asking assistance, 
and more thankful when it is obtained. 

What is prayer ? Prayer is a devout 
lifting up of our souls to God in faith 
and hope, to implore his blessing, and 
comprehends adoration, confession, pe- 
tition, and thanksgiving. 

As to adoration, what can be more 
reasonable or becoming our condition 
than to adore him to whom we owe all 
our comforts; that Eternal Being of 
infinite wisdom, power, and goodness, 
from whom we derive our existence, 
and upon whom alone we depend for 
every good thing that we either enjoy 
or expect. The thought is boundless ! 
For whether we contemplate the inef- 
fable perfection of the Deity, or our 
own pitiable indigence, a thousand rea- 
sons crowd in upon us which engage 
us to thank, to praise, and to adore our 
Friend, our Father, and our God, 

l 2 



148 MEDITATION XI. 

A second part of prayer is confession. 
How can we expect forgiveness of our 
sins, unless we are sensible of them ? 
And if we are sensible that we have of- 
fended., our next step is to be sorry for 
them,, to take shame to ourselves, to 
confess our trespasses ingenuously be- 
fore our Master whom we have offend- 
ed, to implore his pardon, for the sake 
of our Redeemer, and resolve, with the 
* assistance of his Holy Spirit, to sin no 
more. Since he who knows our frailty 
has been graciously pleased to accept 
of our repentance, instead of unsinning 
obedience, which is not in our power, 
shall we endeavour to hide those sins 
of which we are determined to repent ? 
No surely ; we must acknowledge our 
faults before we can be in a disposition 
to amend. It is true, that God, in 
whose presence we commit all our wick- 
edness, knows them perfectly without 
our confession ; but it is also true, that 



OF PRAYER. 149 

God requires our acknowledgment,, not 
to inform him of our guilt, but to testify 
our contrition, and our desire to re- 
turn from a course of unrighteousness 
and misery., into the road of virtue and 
happiness. 

Prayer, in the third place, compre- 
hends petition, according to that excel- 
lent pattern set before us by our Lord, 
in which there are four petitions : 1 . 
Give us this day our daily bread. 2. 
Forgive us our trespasses. 3. Lead us 
not into temptation. 4. Deliver us from 
evil. The reasonableness and necessity 
of these petitions are obvious to the 
slightest consideration. 1. Give us this 
day our daily bread. There is no man, 
from the king who sits on the throne, 
to the beggar who lies in the street, but 
stands in need of preferring this peti- 
tion. Suppose a man ever so rich, he 
cannot eat his silver or gold, or clothe 



150 MEDITATION XI. 

himself with his woods or fields; and 
unless the Almighty vouchsafes to crown 
the year with his blessing, there will 
neither be bread to eat, nor wool nor 
flax to clothe the greatest among man- 
kind. Lamentable, therefore, is the 
vanity of that fool who fancies himself 
independent on God in any respect, since 
the highest and haughtiest man on earth 
(however his pride and ignorance may 
prompt him to think otherwise), de- 
pends on God for his daily subsistence, 
as much as the beasts of the field, and 
the fishes of the sea, who all wait upon 
him, that he may give them their meat 
in due season. 

The second petition, Forgive us our 
trespasses, is not less necessary to be pre- 
ferred. As, on the one hand, we sin 
daily against God, and the imaginations 
of our hearts are evil continually ; and 
since, on the other hand, God is holy^ 



OF PRAYER. 151 

and hates sin ; it follows,, that we must 
be either punished for our iniquities., 
or obtain forgiveness of them on the 
conditions proposed in the gospel. 

As to the third petition., Lead us not 
into temptation. When we reflect on 
our situation in this world,, and the 
many obstructions we meet with in the 
road to virtue, we have great reason to 
watch and pray, that we enter not into 
temptation. We find, from sad expe- 
rience, that the enticements of the world 
from without are laying continual snares 
for us, to make us prefer pleasure, pro- 
fit, or power, to our duty ; while our 
appetites and passions from within are 
ready to betray, and give us up to their ' 
delusion. What can a wretch do there- 
fore who is destitute of God's assistance 
to protect him from such powerful ad- 
versaries ? Is he not like a ship in a tem- 
pest without a pilot, ready to be dashed 



152 MEDITATION XL 

to pieces by the first rock or bank that 
comes in his way ? 

The fourth petition., Deliver us from 
evil, is also indispensably required to be 
offered up in our daily prayers. What 
a dreadful number of moral and na- 
tural evils do continually surround usj, 
which we can neither foresee nor pre- 
vent. And where can we be secure 
from their attacks, but under the pro- 
tection of that Being of infinite goodness 
and power, who is able and willing to 
assist us if we make him our sole de- 
pendence ? 

In the last place, prayer comprehends 
thanksgiving. If food and raiment, 
health and liberty, the use of reason, 
the sense of religion, the prospect of 
felicity and every blessing which we 
enjoy here, or hope for hereafter, can 
fill our hearts with gratitude to the source 
from which we derive them all, ought 



OF PRAYER. 153 

we not to bless and magnify the glorious 
name of God, and to have his praise per- 
petually in our hearts and mouths ? 

O most holy and merciful God, slow 
to anger, and of great kindness, I have 
sinned, what shall I say unto thee, O 
thou preserver of men. If thou wilt 
contend with me, I cannot answer one 
of a thousand. I am ashamed to lift up 
my face unto thee. Have mercy upon 
me, O God, according to thy great 
goodness, according to the multitude of 
thy mercies, do away mine iniquities. 
And let the sufferings of thy beloved 
Son atone for my trespasses. Lead me, 
for my Redeemer's sake, O lead me in 
the way everlasting. Teach me to do 
the thing that pleases thee, for thou art 
my God. Guide me with thy counsel 
here, and after that receive me with 
mercy. Forsake me not when I am 
old and grey headed, but conduct me, 



154 MEDITATION XI. 

by thy holy Spirit,, through the few steps 
which yet remain of my passage to that 
eternal peace, where temptation, sin, 
sorrow and death are unknown. Let 
thy kingdom of universal righteousness, 
charity, holiness and happiness come; 
and let thy blessed will be done in earth 
as it is in heaven. Be gracious to all 
in distress, O Father of the universe, 
and let every knee bow to thee, every 
tongue confess to thee, and every heart 
adore thee, and let the earth be full of 
the knowledge and praise of the Lord^ 
as the waters cover the sea. 



155 



MEDITATION XII. 



OF THE WORKS OF CREATION AND 
PROVIDENCE. 

IT is impossible to observe what passes 
in the natural or moral world, without 
acknowledging the wonderful power 
and wisdom of God in the creation of 
the one, and the government of the 
other. Why does the sun move annually 
in the ecliptic, and not in the equator ? 
Is it not to give thereby a comfortable 
vicissitude of cold and heat, of winter 
and summer to the earth ; and, by that 
means, to bestow food and health on all 
its inhabitants ? For winter,* though 
it seems desolating to the inattentive, is 

* See Essay on the Theory of Agriculture. 



156 MEDITATION XII. 

nevertheless happily employed,, in re- 
plenishing the soil with materials for 
vegetation,, necessary to the productions 
of the following seasons,, which, by their 
gradual heat, bring the fruits of the 
earth to their proper growth and ripe- 
ness. Why is the ocean agitated with 
a never ceasing flux and reflux ? Is it 
not to prevent its waters from stagnat- 
ing and growing putrid, and thereby 
destroying not only all the living crea- 
tures within it, but also all that are near 
it, as far as the noisome stench, and pes- 
tiferous infection, could extend ? What 
rolls the earth every day on its axis? 
The merciful appointment of God, in 
order to apply its several parts, succes- 
sively, to the enlivening rays of the sun, 
which cherish all its inhabitants, and 
produce such an endless variety of pro- 
visions for their subsistence. Why do 
the fixed stars seem, like so many suns, to 



OF THE WORKS OF CREATION. 157 

animate their respective systems through 
the immense bounds of space? Do they 
not set forth to every discerning eye, 
the infinite power,, glory, and omnipre- 
sence of the Creator ? And do not the 
respective inhabitants of these systems 
seem all to partake of his fatherly good- 
ness ? But to describe worthily the ma- 
jesty and wisdom of the Almighty in his 
works, great or small, is above the reach 
of the human mind; as we see, that 
every year, and every day, for ages past, 
have to the diligent enquirer disco- 
vered new beauties in them all ; and will, 
for ages to come, still discover new 
beauties and wonders, until the enquiry 
ceases, or time shall be no more. For, 
are they not all contrived with such 
amazing powers and springs of action, 
so properly adjusted to their respective 
natures, that they must for ever declare 
the incomprehensible wisdom of the 



158 MEDITATION XII. 

Maker, and perpetually raise the admi- 
ration of all diligent and judicious ob- 
servers ? 

Nor are the wisdom and goodness of 
God less conspicuous in his moral go- 
vernment of the world, than in its first 
production. Having made man capable 
of happiness, he has given him all 
imaginable encouragement to attain 
that happiness. He has enabled every 
soul clearly to discern the essential and 
eternal difference between moral good 
and evil. He has endowed him with 
freedom of will, to chuse the one, and 
refuse the other. He has promised end- 
less felicity to those who will pursue a 
course of virtue, and has denounced 
perpetual misery to such as will persist 
in wickedness. The precepts which 
we are commanded to observe and 
practise, all naturally tend to promote 
our peace and satisfaction here, as well 



OF THE WORRS OF CREATION. 159 

us our endless beatitude hereafter. He 
has comforted man under his natural 
frailties and infirmities, by accepting 
repentance and amendment, instead of 
unsinning obedience, for the sake of 
the atonement made for sin by the Re- 
deemer of the universe. He has pro- 
mised the aid of his Spirit to those who 
sincerely endeavour to serve him. He 
exhorts them to offer up their prayers 
to him for a daily supply of all their 
wants, with assurance, that he will ef- 
fectually relieve them, by doing always 
what will tend most to the advantage 
of the sincere and upright petitioner. 
Add to this, that he has planted con- 
science in the soul, to sting man with 
remorse upon committing wickedness, 
but to give serenity, peace, and joy to 
him who has performed his duty. 

Lastly, as to a particular providence 
over individuals, a slight attention to 



160 MEDITATION XII. 

what happens, either to one's self, or 
one's acquaintance, every day, cannot 
fail to exhibit many signal proofs of 
God's immediate care over every single 
creature in the universe, and of the truth 
of what the gospel declares, that he 
clothes the grass of the field, and not a 
sparrow is forgotten before him. What 
others have observed, I know not ; but 
as to myself, so many and so various 
have been the mercies, which in every 
period of my life, I received from my 
gracious God, that I have not words 
sufficient to express my thankfulness. 



161 



MEDITATION XIII. 



CONCERNING SEVERAL VICES OF WHICH MEN 
ARE DAILY GUILTY, WITHOUT ATTENDING 
TO THE HEINOUSNESS OF THEM. 

SOME of these vices are uncleanness, 
covetousness, anger, calumny, revenge, 
envy, pride, lying, intemperance, loss 
of time, neglect of duty, repining at 
the dispensations of Providence, fret- 
fulness, ingratitude, deceiving in small 
things, and a heart not upright with 
God : All which I shall briefly consider 
in the order here laid down. 

In committing uncleanness, you mul- 
tiply sin, by insnaring the innocent ; and 
when once you have debauched and 
ruined them, it is out of your power to 

M 



162 MEDITATION XIII. 

reclaim them., or make them sufficient 
reparation for the guilt into which you 
have drawn them. Thus you bring an 
accumulated guilt upon your own head, 
for which you stand accountable to the 
great Judge of the universe. In what 
manner can you atone for that multi- 
plication of sin ? Let us suppose that by 
repentance and amendment, you should 
obtain pardon for yourself, yet the other 
party may persist in vice, to which you 
pointed the way ; and would it not make 
your heart tremble, and fill you with 
terror and amazement, to reflect, that 
for a momentary gratification, you have 
been the cause of infinite misery to a 
creature, made after the image of God, 
which might have continued innocent, 
had not your fatal temptation inter- 
vened ? 

Covetousness is idolatry, by which you 
affront the Almighty, because you give 



OF VICE. 163 

that attention, and pay that assiduous 
service to mammon, which is due to 
God only. It is also frequently pro- 
ductive of great distress to your neigh- 
bour, for which you must make him 
reparation, or expect to be proportion- 
ably punished, whether you have got 
possession of his substance, either by 
fraud, or by violence. And should it 
not make the heart of the covetous man 
tremble, to think how he is represented 
by the holy Spirit who calls him the 
covetous whom God abhorreth ! 

Wrath is like an unruly horse, which 
you must curb and keep in with a 
strong bridle, for if once you give him 
his head, he may run away with you 
to your destruction. Or, it is like fire, 
from which you must keep at a distance, 
for if it once seizes upon you, it may 
burn you to ashes. Be cautious there- 
fore, and when you first perceive your 
m 2 



164 MEDITATION XIII. 

choler or indignation to be moved, flee 
and make your escape to God for pro- 
tection, and implore his aid, that it may 
not fasten upon you suddenly. Your 
own reason, if you will consult it, Avill 
teach you the necessity of this caution 
and retreat. Since, therefore, you know 
the consequence, check your passion by 
all means possible, and parry the danger. 

Calumny is both foolish and wicked, 
it does no good to the re viler, nor works 
any reformation in the reviled. This 
sin proceeds most frequently from ma- 
lice, which is odious to the Deity; so 
that, in committing it, you offend the 
great Lord and Father of the universe, 
without doing the least good, either to 
yourself, or to another. 

Revenge is inconsistent with peace 
here, or happiness hereafter. In con- 
triving the means of executing venge- 
ance, you lose your inward satisfaction 



OF VICE. 165 

and tranquillity of mind; and in re- 
solving not to forgive your enemies,, 
according to God's positive command, 
you forfeit your claim to that pardon 
of your own trespasses, which is pro- 
mised to those only who forgive the in- 
juries done to themselves. Is there any 
degree of wisdom in this behaviour ? 
You will not forgive an hundred pence 
to your fellow servant, but execute your 
revenge, and take him by the throat, 
until he pays the debt, regardless, at the 
same time, of the ten thousand talents 
you owe to your Master, who, at your 
humble request, would have compassion 
on you, if your unrelenting cruelty to 
another had not obstructed his mercy. 

Envy is both an impious and au- 
dacious vice. To be dissatisfied with 
the distribution that the wise Father of 
the universe makes of the good things 
of this world, which are all his own 



166 MEDITATION XIII. 

property, and which, for excellent rea- 
sons, he dispenses to different persons,, 
in various proportions, looks like calling 
him to account for his government, as 
if frail man could have ordered things 
better, and made a more equitable par- 
tition. Shocking blasphemy! What im- 
piety and impudence is this ! and yet 
to envy our neighbour for the favours 
which God has bestowed upon him, is 
to arraign Providence as partial to him, 
and regardless of our extraordinary 
merit, of which we ourselves entertain 
a high and groundless opinion. 

Pride is a silly unnatural vice, and 
was not made for man who sprang from 
the dust. What has he to be proud of? 
Is birth, beauty, or bodily strength, a 
just cause for pride ? As to birth, is it 
not more honourable to work out one's 
own dignity, and derive his esteem in 
the world from virtue and merits than to 



OF VICE. 167 

be the degenerate offspring of an illus- 
trious family ? The triumph of strength 
or beauty is but of a short duration, and 
gives no ground for pride. A sharp fit 
of sickness will soon demolish both ; or, 
should they escape such a stroke., the 
course of a few years will be sure to 
complete their ruin. Have we any 
greater reason to be proud of our in- 
tellectual faculties,, which are equally 
liable with our bodies to decay, and 
even to perish by a thousand accidents ? 
If a man has good moral qualities,, these 
surely ought not to swell his pride ; for 
whoever seriously examines his own 
heart, and the past actions of his life, 
will, in the progress of that examina- 
tion., find much greater cause for shame 
and confusion of face., than for pride 
and arrogance. 

Lying is an infamous debasing sin, 
that brings shame and reproach upon 



168 MEDITATION XIII. 

the liar ; and acts in direct opposition 
to the plain purpose of God,, in giving 
the use of speech to man,, which was, 
that thereby he might communicate his 
real and genuine thoughts to his neigh- 
bour. If a lie is told on purpose to de- 
ceive, the guilt is doubled, by the con- 
junction of fraud with falsehood. If 
it proceeds from vanity, to magnify 
one's self, it rarely answers the purpose 
of the liar, because a custom of lying 
sinks a man into a contemptible wretch, 
and all that he affirms goes for nothing. 
In short, it is a vile unmanly vice, in- 
troducing confusion (as far as the in- 
fluence of the liar reaches) into the 
moral government of the world, odious 
to God, and among men particularly 
disgraceful. 

Intemperance comprehends every ex- 
cess in eating or drinking, and in in- 
dulging our appetites or passions, which 



OF VICE. 169 

in any measure disorders the mind or 
body, or renders either of them unfit to 
serve God., our neighbours, or ourselves. 
The pleasure of eating or drinking lasts 
no longer than until our natural appe- 
tite for them is satisfied, which is always 
within the bounds of moderation ; but 
to eat or drink more than answers the 
purpose of refreshment, is a brutal in- 
dulgence that wastes the good creatures 
of God, exposes us to distempers and 
infamy, and plainly proves us unwor- 
thy of that reason by which we are dis- 
tinguished from the brute creation ; 
and all excesses of different kinds are 
equally pernicious. 

Loss of time is a fatal error. This 
world is our state of trial. If we em- 
ploy our continuance here as we ought 
to do, we shall meet with a gracious re- 
ception hereafter ; but if we mis-spend 
and trifle it away, there is no calling the 



170 MEDITATION XIII. 

time back again ; we shall have cause 
for ever to lament that we have not 
made a better use of it. When a man 
is near his end, and ready to appear be- 
fore the tribunal of God, to give an ac- 
count of his actions, what would he not 
give for a reprieve of a few days of 
health, to prepare himself, by serious re- 
pentance and amendment, for such an 
appearance ? Why will he therefore, un- 
happily, lose his time, while yet he has 
it in his power to work out his own sal- 
vation with fear and trembling ? 

To neglect our duty of praise and 
adoration to God is an ungrateful and 
foolish sin. Our whole dependence is 
upon him, our whole subsistence is from 
him, and if he should withdraw his pro- 
tection but for a moment, we are un- 
done. He requires not all our atten- 
tion, or all our time, but only that our 
hearts should be sincere and upright in 



OP VICE. 171 

our attachment to him. And, if we 
have any true sense of his goodness, 
and of our own wants and weakness, 
\ye ought to rejoice in the privilege of 
being permitted to adore his perfec- 
tions, and to implore his protection and 
mercy. 

To repine at the dispensations of 
Providence is a complicated sin, more 
enormous than is commonly imagined, 
1 . It includes pride, and a high conceit 
of our own merit, as if we thought our- 
selves overlooked or neglected, while 
those we fancy our inferiors are more 
regarded. 2. It censures the wisdom 
and justice of God in the government 
of the worlds as if he was partial in his 
distributions, and did not pay a suffi- 
cient regard to persons of our import- 
ance. Detestable vanity ! 3. It argues 
a fretful, discontented, ungrateful spirit^ 
a frame of mind which excludes peace 



Yi% MEDITATION XIII. 

and contentment wherever it has taken 
possession : So that this sin of repining 
comprehends pride,, audaciousness, im- 
piety, ingratitude, and a peevishness in- 
consistent with any degree of felicity. 

Fretfulness is also a heinous compli- 
cated guilt. It is a mixture of pride 
and impatience. We think ourselves 
such curiosities, that every thing should 
be subservient to our humours ; and 
when any thing happens to obstruct our 
profit or pleasure, our indignation is pre- 
sently raised, be the obstruction ever so 
harmless, and we treat it with scorn 
and insolence. Did the great God, 
who sees our folly and madness, treat 
us, as we do our fellow creatures, with 
contempt and disdain, what miserable 
unhappy wretches must we be ? And 
how dare we take the liberty to insult 
or abuse persons much more valuable, 
perhaps, in the sight of God than our- 
selves ? 



OF VICE. 173 

Ingratitude is reckoned such an odi- 
ous vice, even among sinful creatures 
like ourselves, that he who is guilty of 
it is thought capable of any wickedness. 
But what is our ingratitude to man, 
compared with our ingratitude to the 
Almighty? To desert from, or rebel 
against him, from whom we have our 
being, and every blessing we enjoy, is 
a most deplorable infatuation. Ought 
not a generous mind rather to suffer 
any affliction, than run the risk of wil- 
fully offending so much condescension 
and goodness, which is still ready to re- 
ceive men upon their repentance and 
amendment, notwithstanding their for- 
mer baseness and unthankfulness ? 

To deceive in small things shews a 
corrupt heart; and he who will give 
himself the liberty to deceive in small 
matters, would undoubtedly deceive in 
the greatest,, because they bring more 



174 MEDITATION XIII, 

gain, if he were not afraid that great 
frauds would be more carefully enquired 
into, and sooner discovered, to his con- 
fusion and ruin. For, as he is not in- 
fluenced by any principle of regard to 
God, who sees all he does, but only by 
the fear of shame and temporary pu- 
nishment, he is full as guilty who cheats 
in a trifle, as he who defrauds in a mat- 
ter of great consequence. All the dif- 
ference seems to be, that the loss is not 
so great to the person injured, but still 
the badness of heart in the deceiver is 
equally unjustifiable. 

A heart not upright with God, is a 
heart divided between God and mam- 
mon : A heart which, like the Roman 
senate under Tiberius, would add Christ 
to the number of their gods, but would 
worship all their other false deities at 
the same time. He is called a jealous 
God, and requires the whole heart, 



OF TICE. , 175 

and surely a heart fixed on any idol is 
not worth his acceptance. 

A thousand reasons, if* we were capa- 
ble of reflecting wisely, would deter- 
mine us to serve and worship him alone, 
with sincerity and faithfulness ; and let 
us not deceive ourselves, he will not be 
mocked, and can never be pleased with 
partial service. O my gracious God, 
let me never hesitate between my duty 
to thee and the delusion of my appe- 
tites and passions ; let my heart be ho- 
nest, pure, and constant, in an univer- 
sal obedience and resignation to thy 
holy will all the days of my life. 



176 



MEDITATION XIV. 



OF CHRISTIANITY. 

FOR my part,, I see in the Christian 
system such evident marks of truth, 
probity, and goodness, and such proofs 
of the approbation of the Deity, that I 
must believe it came from heaven. 

In the first place, the attributes of 
the Almighty, as they are plainly set 
forth in this system, and the sincerity 
with which man is directed to worship 
him in spirit and in truth, are worthy 
of the Ruler of the universe ; which, so 
far as I know, cannot be said of any 
other religion. Besides, the precepts 
given in the gospel for the conduct 
of our lives, have all of them a natu- 
ral tendency to secure our peace and 



OF CHRISTIANITY . 177 

happiness throughout the whole dura- 
tion of our existence. 

In the next place, the many bene- 
ficent miracles performed publicly by 
Jesus Christ and his apostles, in con- 
firmation of their mission, are, to my 
apprehension, a sure testimony of the 
approbation of God, without whose im- 
mediate power they could not be per- 
formed. But especially the resurrec- 
tion of our Lord (which is proved by a 
stronger and fuller evidence than per- 
haps any matter of fact ever was) is 
a demonstration that he was sent by God ; 
for sure, no man will say, that the Al- 
mighty would enter into a collusion with 
an impostor, and exert his omnipotence 
to give sanction to a lie. 

Again, our Saviour's prediction of 
his own death and resurrection ; of the 
descent of the Holy Ghost ; of the con- 
version of the Gentiles ; of the calami- 

N 



178 MEDITATION XIV. 

ties of the Jews,, the total destruction of 
their city, temple, and government ; 
which we know at this day to have been 
all completely verified, were, at the time 
they happened, an irresistible, and still 
continue a permanent demonstration 
of his divine mission. Lastly, I can see 
no worldly interest, or selfish views of 
riches, honour, pleasure, or power, pur- 
sued by Jesus Christ, or his apostles, or 
by the primitive Christians ; but, on the 
contrary, I find them meekly and pati- 
ently suffering' all manner of hardships 
and cruelties for the sake of truth, and 
for the benefit of mankind. 

O most gracious God, as I am guilty 
of many grievous sins, for which I have 
no excuse to plead, and can make no 
restitution, what hope of pardon can 
I entertain but through the merits of 
Christ, and upon the conditions of the 
gospel ? I owed unsinning obedience to 



OF CHRISTIANITY. 179 

my Maker,, but that law I have broken, 
and thereby forfeited my claim to his 
favour. Without mercy I must be for 
ever miserable ; but where shall I find 
that mercy ? I perceive, by the Christian 
system, O my God, that thou hast sent 
thy Son to the world, to offer his life 
a sacrifice for sin, and to reconcile man 
to thee : For this revelation of thy will, 
and for the inestimable benefit thereby 
accruing to mankind, I humbly desire 
to magnify and adore thy name for 
ever. I desire also to embrace the con- 
ditions of the gospel, to live soberly, 
righteously, and godly in this world, to 
the utmost of my power, and to rely on 
the satisfaction made by my Redeemer 
for that mercy which I myself could 
never merit. O let all my past sins, for 
which I sincerely ask thy pardon, be 
washed away by the blood of the Lamb 
of God, and give me the aid of thy 



180 MEDITATION XIV. 

blessed Spirit,, to root out of my heart 
all sinful and corrupt affections., and to 
implant, in their room, all those devout 
and pious dispositions that become the 
worshippers of the holy Jesus. Lord 
Jesus, receive my spirit, and let me 
meet with a gracious reception at thy 
tribunal. 



FINIS, 



f London ; Printed by T. C. Hansard,? 
1 Pelerborough-court, Fieet=Slreet. jf 



LR34p27 






Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: Oct. 2005 

PreservationTechnologies 

A WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVATION 

1 1 1 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township, PA 16066 
(724)779-2111 



